The Years of His Life
by Sharklist6285
Summary: A series of one-shots over the course of nine years of Harry's life in Hogwarts and with his adoptive father, Severus Snape.
1. First Year

**A/N: This is a fic I wrote as a bunch of scenes I wanted to appear in canon, but didn't. The idea I had was, how Severus would react with Harry, at certain parts in canon, if he was his father. Here, I have formulated a scene or two from each year (each chapter is its own year) where Severus and Harry interact as they would if they were father and son. Usually it involves some major plot point in canon; sometimes it's simply fluff, and slight angst. You won't find much plot or character development in this (not _much_ ) since these are primarily one-shots. **

**For the first chapter, I decided not to have the scene as part of anything that happened during the school year since the Professor and Harry's relationship would only have been improving during that time, allowing it to come to the point I am writing now. As a Severitus fic, this will be focusing on moments between Harry and his father, as what is to follow, so in regards to how they achieved this relationship, I deemed it not important. I understand it's not usually how these fics go, but considering the amount of stories written on this topic, I'm sure you guys can find a plausible way that Severus got to know Harry and eventually care for him. I apologize for any OOCness, I _am_ trying to keep everyone in character, but there inevitably will be some changes. **

**Now, enough of my blabbing, on to the chapter!**

 _Foolish boy,_ Severus thought, hurrying through the castle corridors, _foolish boy._ So intent on his task was he, that he didn't notice Albus coming towards him, until he passed him and heard his name being called out. Turning, he prepared to snap at the old man, when the Headmaster said,

"No need to rush, Severus. Harry is quite safe." Unbeknownst to him, Severus's heart immediately calmed its frantic beating.

"Where is he?" he growled.

"Resting in the Hospital Wing, recovering from his ordeal. Perhaps you should—"

Severus waited not to hear what the old man had to say, spinning on his heel he continued down the corridor, heading for his new destination.

He reached the Infirmary in record time, stopping before the doors to catch his breath. Composed once more, Severus entered the Hospital Wing, eyes searching and landing on a mess of dark hair on a boy essentially buried beneath his blankets, surrounded by mountains of sweets and other get-well gifts. The young wizard was indeed asleep, nestled in under the covers, though his expression was not the one of rest Severus expected to see. The boy never seemed to rest completely contentedly, something Severus had noticed over the course of the year.

It was strange; considering the changes that'd occurred between them since the year had begun. Harry had come to Hogwarts a lonely, lost, little boy, who barely trusted the sky to stay above his head. He was a boy Severus had despised, something that caused him deep regret now. At the moment, Harry was still that lonely boy, but there was so much more to him that Severus now knew about and wanted to help him with.

Severus himself had undergone changes also. He'd started out the year as the man he'd been for the past decade; bitter, cold, angry, even lonely as well, just like the boy asleep on the bed in front of him. Severus was reminded of their first classes together and how he'd treated Harry, a flash of guilt coursing through him at the memory. It had been immature, unnecessarily cruel and just plain wrong. If Severus examined himself, he'd find he was proud of the way their relationship had progressed up to this point, where looking down on him now, Severus felt a fierce protectiveness in his core, one he intended to preserve.

Studying the boy in his sleep and the lack of peace on his face, Severus thought, _I want to do more for you._ It was strange how the sentiment brought relief to the tightness in his chest, allowing him to breathe more deeply. Leaving the child to his rest, Severus returned to his quarters and began planning exactly how he would help Harry.

As soon as he was released from the Hospital Wing, Severus sent him a message through one of his Ravenclaw students to come meet Severus in his quarters. Later that day, at the sound of a soft knock at the door, Severus bid Harry come in and to make himself comfortable on the couch across from him. Severus had thought long and hard on what more he could do to protect and aid the child. One issue was that Severus lacked the authority to keep a firmer watch on the boy, keep him out of harm's way. Another concern was the upcoming summer holiday and the matter concerning who would be taking the boy in. After finding out about the absolute inadequacy – to put it lightly – of the care of Harry's relatives, new arrangements had to be made. The more Severus had contemplated the issue and possible solutions, the more he became convinced there was only one simple solution. Well, it wasn't strictly simple, and _Merlin_ – it certainly wouldn't be easy, not to mention how unprepared Severus was, or how it might not even work, or that Harry had to agree first, which would be a miracle onto itself… Severus forced himself to stop spiraling and just get it over with. Deciding he was too nervous to sit, he opted to continue standing and took a deep breath before beginning.

"Harry, you remember, near the start of the year, when I said I would take you away from the Dursleys' care?" he nearly choked over the last word, but forced himself to remain calm. Harry nodded, unsure as to where this was going.

"Well, with the summer hols approaching, we need to find someone to take you in. Considering the rapport we have built up over the past year, I thought to inquire whether you would be amenable to staying with me." Severus waited for the inevitable screaming in terror or some similar reaction and was stunned when it didn't come. If that surprised him, he was soon floored by Harry's soft response,

"Yes." The word was spoken so softly, Severus barely caught it, and still he assumed he'd heard wrong. The emotions on Harry's face confused him further. Some mix of shock, adulation and gratitude. Needing to be certain, Severus queried, barely willing to believe the boy would acquiesce,

"Are you sure you want this, Harry?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "No one's ever offered to care for me before. And I know it's just for protection and so I'll have somewhere to spend the summer, but it's nothing like the Dursleys ever—"

"I will _never_ treat you as those savages did. I give you my word."

Harry nodded again, clearly convinced. Severus sighed out quietly in relief. He'd had no idea how nervous he'd been that Harry would refuse him. Nodding, himself, and sending the child back to him dorm, Severus collapsed in one of the armchairs by the fire. This was certainly a big change and would no doubt cause many problems to arise for Severus to deal with, but he found he could not regret his decision one bit.

The end of term arrived and Severus was in Albus's office filling out the paperwork necessary to apply for guardianship. Given strict instructions not to inform anyone he would not be returning to the Dursleys as expected, Harry said goodbye to his friends, and headed to Dumbledore's office, where they would be flooing to Severus's home. Severus was just finishing the last of paperwork, standing up as Harry entered.

"All ready, Harry?" he inquired upon the young wizard's entrance. Harry nodded; eager to see his new guardian's home. Using the Floo in Dumbledore's office, in mere moments, they stepped into the living room of Spinner's End.

Though Severus thoroughly detested everything to do with his childhood home, living in it only for convenience, Harry's eyes wandered this way and that, marveling at everything they perceived. For Harry, this house, with its dusty rugs, thick curtains, slightly mismatched furniture, and general lack of sterility, was a warm welcome, to the cold, clean house of his aunt. This house was cozy, and although at the moment it felt unlived in, Harry knew with a good cleaning and a fire set in the fireplace, it would feel very warm.

Severus gave him a display of the house; the kitchen, with both its wizard and muggle appliances; the living room, armchairs strung about the room, and two sofas; and the laboratory, which he was not to enter without express permission. There was Severus's office, and, to his great delight, a library. He hoped the bookshelves held many a fantasy book he could lose himself in. Fighting a smile at the look of awe on Harry's face, Severus led them upstairs, pointing out the doors to his room and the bathroom, respectively, before opening the door to Harry's room. Harry stepped over the threshold gingerly, moving through the room with a kind of reverence, taking it all in. _Wow,_ he thought, _a whole room, just for me. With a real bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a closet. Even a_ bookcase _. I'm so lucky to get to stay here. Of course, it's not really mine, not to keep, but I'd love to have this room even just for the summer._ Putting his things down on the floor, Harry walked up to the bed and gingerly touched the covers. Turning towards his teacher, he said,

"Thank you, Professor. For all this."

"You're very welcome, Harry," Severus replied simply, leaving him alone to unpack while he headed downstairs to get started on supper. _Yes,_ he mused, _this could work._

* * *

Severus was at a loss as to what he should get Harry for his birthday. Obviously, the boy had never had a real birthday before – something Severus was determined to remedy – and would be elated at receiving anything at all; however, Severus wanted to get him something truly special, something that indicated how much Harry meant to him.

So far, they'd spent about a month together, and Severus was pleased at the feeling of kinship gradually growing between them. Reminiscing on the past few weeks, Severus flashed on a moment that'd occurred not a week before.

Knowing Harry had been growing tired of being cooped up in the house all day – much as he liked spending time with Severus – the Potions Master acquainted Harry with a park not far from his home, where he would be allowed to play. Harry immediately latched on to this and seemed eager to go. Unfortunately, Severus had been quite busy with a potion that day and could not afford to take the child. Reluctant to deprive the boy of some fun outdoors, Severus debated letting him go on his own. After much consideration, factoring in strangers, dark wizards, or mishaps of any kind, Severus decided, though precocious and prone to perilous predicaments, Harry could handle a sortie to a park a few blocks away, one well within the limits of Severus's wards, where he would be allowed to frolic for a few hours. However, as much as he knew the child would be safe, that did not stop him from fussing over the boy, minutes before he left; making sure he had his wand in his pocket and knew to return at the first sign of trouble. This was the first time Harry would be on his own since coming to live with him, and he was more than a little reluctant to let him go. After ensuring, for the third time, that Harry knew exactly how to get there and back from the playground, Harry let out an exasperated,

"Da- _ad_!" immediately, they both froze. Harry was the first to move, ducking his head as he occupied himself with doing up the buttons on his jacket.

"Right," Severus stated tersely, swallowing thickly as he did. "Off you go then."

Once Harry had left, Severus stood in the entranceway, mulling over what had just happened, until the wards in his lab went off, signalling it was time for the next phase in the potion he was currently engrossed in brewing; and the matter was chased from his mind, for the time being. Since neither of them had deemed it fit speak of the incident, Severus had barely allowed himself to contemplate it until now, ambling down the walkways of Diagon Alley. Presently, no longer in shock, he was able to fully examine the situation and how he felt about it. When Harry had uttered that word, a deep warmness had sprouted in Severus's chest, one he only fully understood the extent of now, as well as began to affect him once more, as he recalled the incident. This warmth elicited a sensation within him, as if he'd found something he hadn't known he'd been missing.

Returning to the matter at hand, Severus wondered if he could possibly implement this into whatever gift he would give Harry. Following a quick game of connect-the-dots, he came to one clear conclusion. _I could adopt him._ Just as suddenly as it appeared, a voice within him scorned,

 _Don't be ridiculous. The boy doesn't want to be adopted by_ you _; what makes you think you deserve that?_ Trying to ignore the self-flagellation, Severus resigned himself to the rest of the sentiment, feeling his heart fall as quickly as it'd risen. _Of course,_ he resolved, _it was a stupid idea._

Severus continued on his way through Diagon Alley, and his search for a suitable token for his young ward. Nevertheless, his previous plan continued to plague him. The more he pondered the possibility, the more he realized he didn't want this just for Harry, he wanted it for himself.

In hindsight, Severus understood that part of the reason he'd only petitioned for guardianship at first was to distance himself from the depths of his feelings towards the boy. When he'd offered to be his guardian, Harry had agreed with his statement that it was simply for practicality. He didn't understand that Severus genuinely wanted to care for him. He'd held his emotions too close to his heart for too long. Well, no more. The amount of protectiveness he felt towards the child, the pride and worry, the loyalty, and simple wish to keep him happy, all the feelings he'd pushed down until now, rose to the surface. Harry deserved more than just a guardian and a place to feel safe. The simple fact that he hadn't received those before did nothing to warrant him being denied them now. Harry merited a parent, whose care was focused on him, and Severus would make _damn_ sure he got it.

Hopefully, that it was _Snape_ wouldn't disappoint him too much, yet Severus could not bear letting another assume the role. It was too late for that. _Albus will have to be informed, of course,_ he mused, _and Poppy as well._ From past experience, Severus knew Madame Pomfrey as more than capable of maintaining her silence in regards to matters of importance, and felt no qualms in informing her.

That still left Harry's gift, though. While he would doubtlessly be ecstatic at receiving a parent (Severus sincerely hoped), it wasn't much in lieu of an actual present. Severus took a moment to picture Harry's room in his mind, trying to get an idea of what the boy might want.

In his mind's eye, he was appalled at the lack of décor in the room. The plain grey walls were unadorned; the desk undisturbed, even the bed was meticulously made, as if, at any time, he would be told to vacate it and turn it over to someone else. The only thing in the room indicating it belonged to someone was Hedwig's gilded cage in one corner. This highly disturbed Severus. A boy should seek to fill his room with things to make it his own, marking his territory, so to speak. Even when Severus had occupied the room, there had been one or two Slytherin hangings on the walls and the desk was piled with potions books. Harry had none of those.

An instance at the start of the summer sprung to Severus's mind, that'd struck him as strange at the time. After deeming Harry's "wardrobe" of old rags wholly inadequate, the two wizards had immediately taken a trip to Muggle London to purchase a whole new array of outfits for Harry. Upon returning, Harry had been eager to put his things away, yet when Severus passed by his room, he noticed that only the bottommost drawer in the dresser was being used to store Harry's things. At the time, he'd wondered if, maybe, the boy wanted all his things in one pace to access them more easily.

Analyzing the big picture, as he was now, Severus saw it for what it really was. Harry had put away his clothes away in a manner that would allow him to pack more easily once he had to leave. Obviously, Harry didn't think the room was really his. Well, that was no surprise. The child had never really been given anything that was strictly his, taught to think that he didn't deserve it; it was no wonder he didn't expect to keep the room.

Suddenly, Severus knew exactly what to get Harry. It wasn't a gift in the traditional sense of the word, but it would most certainly show Harry what he meant to him and how he fit in Severus's life. He'd leave the other tokens to his friends and perhaps Albus and Madame Pomfrey. Following that line of thought, Severus mentally wrote missives he would send to each of his colleagues when he got home, informing them of his desire to meet. Hurrying to the necessary shops, he gathered all the materials he needed, before returning home. He hoped Harry was fine. While, as strange as it sounded, he trusted the young Gryffindor to keep himself occupied in relative peace for a few hours, he preferred not to leave him on his own.

The next day, he travelled by Floo to his Hogwarts quarters with Harry in tow. After helping the boy start some of his summer homework and fetching a house-elf to keep watch on the young wizard, he set off for Dumbledore's office, informing Harry of his location in case he was in need of assistance.

Entering the circular room, Severus observed that Poppy was already there, along with the Headmaster.

Hearing him enter, Poppy spun around to face him, arms crossed. "What is all this about, Severus? You certainly weren't specific in your correspondence. 'A matter with a great deal of import and secrecy?'"

"Good day to you, too, Poppy," Severus responded dryly. Poppy's frown didn't abate one bit, and when it seemed she would reply in kind, Albus interjected,

"Severus, I assume this is a matter you would like assistance with. If it is as crucial as you say, should we not get down to it?" After all were seated comfortably, and Poppy was no longer glaring at the Potions Professor, he continued, "I assume this is about Harry."

Severus nodded stiffly. Now was the time. Speaking it aloud would make it official. Then, like the bursting of a bubble, reality came crushing down on Severus. What was he _doing_? Thinking _he_ could adopt Harry Potter? What made him think he deserved that? His parents would certainly roll in their graves. Not to mention what folly it would take for Harry to _want_ to be adopted by him. This was all a big mistake. He should make up an excuse for calling this meeting and leave.

"Severus?" Albus asked when moments passed with no words coming from the dour man.

Meeting the wise old man's gaze, Severus was given full view of the mysterious twinkling perpetually dwelling there. While usually annoyed by the man's constant optimistic attitude, at this moment, he found the ability to draw courage from that look and opened his mouth to speak,

"I have decided to adopt Harry Potter." There, he'd said it. Strangely, the crippling fear and doubt he'd been expected did not appear, in their place he felt a peculiar sense of calm and release.

Albus's striking blue eyes brightened further, wrinkling at the corners as his face broke out in an ear-to-ear smile. "Have you now? How wonderful, my dear boy."

Poppy, who'd observed the blossoming relationship between the two over the course of the school year, was only mildly surprised. She turned to Severus, a small smile on her face and frown completely gone, added her sentiments,

"Congratulations, Severus. Though, I have to ask why my presence was required."

Nodding in response, he replied, "For a number of reasons, this development will have to remain confidential, limited to those in this room and, needless to say, Harry. I will certainly be in need of your assistance over the next series of years, when the child inevitably lands in your care. I thought it prudent to inform you of whom to go to at those times." Poppy indicated her agreement with a nod. Turning to Albus to include him in his next statement, he went on, "Now, besides for procuring the necessary paperwork, I have another need of assistance from you both." Hence, Severus began outlining to them his plan on how to make Harry's birthday enough to make up for all those he'd missed.

* * *

On the night before his birthday, Harry struggled to stay up until midnight, as was his custom for celebrating the day. After seeing the clock on the wall strike twelve, he wished himself a happy birthday and nestled under the blankets to go to sleep, thinking that was the end of it.

In the morning, Harry awoke to a strange smell. Dressing quickly, he hurried downstairs to confirm it was real. There, sitting on the table, across from Severus reading the paper, was a giant stack of pancakes. With an enormous grin on his face, Harry took a seat and waited to be served.

"Help yourself, Mr. Potter. You should know that by now."

"But this is special. I thought you'd want to take first."

Severus lowered the paper, giving him a look Harry couldn't decipher, but hoped wasn't annoyance.

"I have already had a proper breakfast of toast and eggs. Enjoy your frivolities." With that, he returned to his reading material with barely another glace at the beaming child.

Harry examined the pancakes carefully, noting their peculiar sizes and shapes. With great care, he picked a lightning bolt shaped pancake, and then a cauldron shaped one. Trying not to seem too greedy, he made sure he got a snitch pancake as well.

"You may take as much as you want, though I will hear no complaints of an upset stomach later. They _are_ for you after all."

Harry paused with his fork in his mouth, stuffed with fluffy pancakes. "Phoh meh?" At a glare from Severus, his face reddened sheepishly and swallowed before repeating, "For me, sir?"

The professor finally set his reading material on the table. "It _is_ your birthday, is it not?"

Harry's eyes widened and he froze. This, this was all for him. Professor Snape had gotten up early to make pancakes especially for him. Suddenly, he had to blink really hard to stop from crying.

"Thank you, sir," he managed to get out. Severus nodded in response, getting up to make himself a cup of coffee. Once his back was turned, he allowed the frown to appear on his face. There had been too much surprise on the boy's face. While he knew how vile Harry's relatives had been, it was like he hadn't even remembered it was his birthday; what had this boy gone through? After breakfast, Severus headed for his lab and a soundly satisfied Harry to the living room. Upon entering the room, he was utterly confused by the pile of brightly colored packages on the sofa. Unsure of what to do, he called Snape over for assistance. Assuming he was in some sort of trouble, Severus rushed in, only to see him standing bewildered by his presents.

"What is all this?" the boy asked in absolute sincerity.

Severus forced himself to remain emotionless. "These are gifts from your friends for your birthday, Harry. Did you not see your name on them?" Harry looked down, embarrassed. _Idiot,_ Severus chided himself, _he's not ignorant; he just never expected them to be his._ "Let's open them together," he suggested, removing the tension that'd sprung up. Harry perked up at that, and sat down next to the enormous pile, eager to get started. The amount of packages didn't equal half of what Dudley got from his parents every month, yet it was more than Harry had ever received and he was more than satisfied. He took great care in opening each one, grinning as if it was a diamond, and then presented it to Severus with a smile. His first gift was a quidditch pamphlet and a Bertie-Botts Every Flavour Bean bag from Ron. Seeing another box with Ron's handwriting he opened it to see some homemade fudge with a freshening charm, from Mrs. Weasley. _Mum insisted I send this. Something about you being too skinny._ Smiling, Harry gave that to his teacher and went on to the next; a book – no surprise there – from Hermione on other wizards with curse scars. He got chocolate frogs from Neville, and amazingly, a photo album of his parents from Hagrid. He handed this tearfully to Severus, who took it gingerly, gently trailing Lily's face on the cover.

When all the gifts were unwrapped and the paper thrown away, Severus had Harry sit next to him couch so they could talk. "I have yet to give you my present," he explained. Harry cocked his head to the side.

"Didn't you already give me my present? Wasn't that what the special breakfast was for?"

Stuffing down his frustration (really, those muggles), Severus replied with a shake of his head, "That was just a treat. My gift is quite different." Severus was glad he'd had Albus deal with all the paperwork before this. He was nervous enough; he didn't need to deal with senseless bureaucracy on top of that. All the legalities were behind them; the only thing left was for Severus to sign the papers, and, naturally, Harry to accept.

Quelling his doubts, Severus began, "I have been contemplating our situation for some time and I realize certain things need to change." Harry's soaring spirits at how this day had been going plummeted. _Of course this was happening now. Professor Snape has realized he longer wants to be my guardian. He's going to give me away,_ Harry thought, sullenly. _And I just started thinking of him as Da-NO!_ Harry wasn't going to let himself think it. Because that was just hoping; and it never did any good to hope. Determined not to cry, Harry tried to focus on all the things he'd enjoyed while staying with his professor, resolute in not missing it too much.

"Yes, sir," he said, dejectedly.

Seeing his dismay, Severus faintly frowned. Had Harry figured out what he was trying to do and it _disappointed_ him? Suddenly unable to speak, he conjured the adoption papers from his office and set them on the coffee table in front of Harry.

"This is what I wished to discuss with you," he stated, rather lamely.

Curious, Harry leaned forward to glance at the papers and after a few seconds, his eyes went teary again. Severus's heart clenched. What did this mean? Was Harry upset he got stuck with Severus? Was he missing his _real_ parents?

"You…" Harry swallowed thickly and attempted to speak again, "You want to-to _adopt me_?"

Extremely uncomfortable, Severus nodded stiffly. "I thought you would appreciate having more than a guardian, but I still haven't signed the papers. You can still say no, if you would prefer having—"

He didn't get a chance to finish as a small body hurled itself against his. Harry wrapped his arms around his professor, his protector, his… father, and buried his head in the man's chest. Finally letting his tears flow free, Harry managed to get out through his sobbing,

"Thank you! This is the best present ever! Thank you, thank you!" Shocked, Severus realized his heart was beating once again; and not just thumping along, it danced in a flurry of motion so fast Severus felt it would beat right out of his chest. A feeling of utter joy and relief filled his body that he could not remember having felt at any other point in his life. Trying, and failing, to supress an enormous smile, Severus wrapped his arms around the body of the small child currently clinging to him. Severus felt the wetness of the boy's tears and, mostly likely, phlegm dirtying his robes, yet he found he could not care less.

When Harry's tears finally stopped, he drew away from the boy to ask, gesturing to the papers on the table as he did, "Would you like me to sign these now?" Harry nodded eagerly, eyes shining with more than just remaining tears. Harry stared intently as Severus summoned a quill and began printing his name wherever needed. When he was done, Harry looked up at him shyly, before asking timidly,

"Do you think I could call—I mean would you mind if….?" He trailed off, shaking his head as if it wasn't important.

Thankfully, Severus was able to discern what he meant and asked gently, "Harry, would you like to call me 'Dad'?"

Harry met his eyes again. "If you don't mind, sir," he replied softly, almost as if scared the offer would be retracted.

"I would be very pleased if you did." Harry's answering smile rivaled the sun in brilliance, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up slightly.

"Now come, Harry. It's time I showed you the rest of your gift."

Harry's eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. "But you already did, sir—Dad. You gave me the best gift ever!"

Severus enjoyed the warmth the title and following words gave him. "Nonsense," he replied, taking his son – his _son_ – by the hand and leading him upstairs. "I think it's high time we made your room properly yours, don't you?" Severus figured it said something about Harry's feelings about the new change that he made no protests against holding Severus's hand, like a "child."

Harry, on his part, could hardly believe his luck. This was the best day of his life! Even better than his last birthday, when he'd been told he was a wizard. When they got to his room, Harry was astounded to see all sorts of decorating objects and things to hang on his walls laying on his bed. Turning to his dad – his dad! – he gave him a questioning look, which was answered with a nod and a gesture to "go on." Harry went to the bed and picked out all the things he wanted. The rest Severus banished to the basement. Not knowing what the child would want, he'd bought the lot, determined to give the Harry the best room he could want. Harry had chosen a few different-styled Gryffindor hangings, a corkboard for pictures, and a poster with a cauldron on it, to Severus's surprise. To Harry's great delight, the man waved his wand, smirking as he did, and a snitch appeared that flew around the poster. After that, a quidditch poster was added. As Harry decided where to put all his new adornments, Severus stopped him every once in a while to ask him what designs he wanted on the bedsheets, or what color to make the walls. They were busy until late afternoon, stopping only for lunch. The end result was certainly a masterpiece in Harry's eyes. The walls had been painted a light blue-green, the bedsheets green with black cauldrons and golden snitches, the desk filled with all sorts of knick-knacks Harry had chosen. The furniture had remained the same, though the wood was touched up and painted a warm brown; and on the outside of the door, in golden letters, it read: Harry's Room.

* * *

"Harry," Severus said, as they went downstairs. "Soon Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey will be joining us and we'll be having a party. Is that alright with you?"

Harry nodded. "I'd invite my friends, but I know you wouldn't want them at your party."

Severus looked down at his son, and said seriously, "Harry, you know you can't tell your friends about the adoption. Just like the guardianship. It's to keep you safe."

Harry knew his dad thought he was sad he couldn't invite anyone, but he wasn't. Nothing could take away the happiness of this day and the fact that he'd gotten a father. "It's ok, Dad. I understand."

Severus nodded, but something felt off. Something the boy had said. Something about the party…

"Harry?" he asked. "What did you mean 'your' party?"

Harry looked up at him. "You know; the adoption party. Where we celebrate you adopting me. Aren't we?"

Severus furrowed his brows. "Harry, that party is for you. In case you forgot, it _is_ still your birthday."

Harry stopped where he was, unable to move. Suddenly, he felt like he couldn't breathe. _This is too much, it's too much. I don't deserve all this._ Just days ago, Harry had gotten in trouble for not being careful while moving around in the lab and had caused several valuable potions to crash down on the floor, subsequently spending the rest of the afternoon scrubbing cauldrons. _And after all that, Dad let me keep all the presents I got, and he gave me the best room ever, AND he even adopted me, even though I'd never've asked for it. I even get a party, when I'm not helpful and I make messes and I get in trouble._ Harry felt cold creep up his chest. He'd thought nothing could ruin his day, yet here it was. _I don't deserve this. I'm nothing, a nobody. A_ freak _. And freaks don't get presents, they don't get parties and they_ definitely _don't get adopted. Did I even say thank you for all the things I got?_ Harry wanted to run upstairs and hide under his new covers and not come out. _I'm a worthless ungrateful brat. Just like everybody says. No one could care for me. I'm too much trouble, a nuisance._ A sudden thought scared Harry more than anything. _This was all a test. Professor Snape didn't really want to adopt me; he just wanted to show me that nobody really wants me, since I'm not good for anything._ Harry continued on like this for what seemed like forever.

Finally, he heard a sound that seemed like it was far away. Drawing near it, he felt warmth surround his hands as they were held in two larger ones. Focusing his eyes, he found he was looking right into the black, worried eyes of his father.

"Harry?" his father was saying, "Can you hear me? It's me, son. Come back. You're safe here." The words continued, and though Harry couldn't discern exactly what they were, he felt comforted by them and his father's voice.

"Dad?" he whispered. Letting out a long breath of relief, Severus tightened his grip on his son's hands in response.

"What's wrong, Harry? What did I say to scare you so?"

Harry shook his head. Even though he would soon send him away, his dad took such good care of him. "Thank you, sir. For all the presents and the pancakes and the adoption and everything you did today. Thank you so much. I never—"

"Stop thanking me, you silly child, you've done enough of that. Tell me what's wrong?"

The words sounded so soft and warm, Harry wanted to believe it was real, that his father really wanted to keep him and done all of this just for him. But he had to tell the truth.

"I don't…" he swallowed over the lump in his throat. Determined to brave, he tried again, "I don't deserve all this, sir." His voice barely reached the volume of a whisper, yet Severus, so intently paying attention, caught it.

 _Curse those vile muggles,_ he seethed to himself, _their punishment was not enough._ Look what they had done to his son. When Harry had first stopped moving, Severus tried calling his name. When that didn't work, he descended a few steps to meet him at eye-level and found him staring glassy-eyed at nothing. Unsure of what to do, and scared out of his wits, he grasped the boys hands in his, willing the frightened child to look him in the eye. He called him Son and Harry over and over, trying to get him to come back. Now, to hear those ridiculous words come out of his mouth, Severus had no doubt where he'd gotten them. He was able to deduce what had been going through Harry's head and it did nothing to soften his temper. Occluding his anger for the moment, he focused his energies on the confused child in front of him.

Lifting Harry's chin with a finger, he met his eyes and enunciated, "You most certainly do, Harry. And never again let me hear you say otherwise."

With shining eyes, Harry voice in a whisper, "But I'm not worth it. I'm not good for anything, just an ungrateful frea—"

"Don't ever say that word!" Harry jumped at the sound. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Severus added, more calmly, "Harry, I've told you this before. Everything your relatives told you is a lie. You are not worthless, and you are _certainly_ not ungrateful, nor that word we don't say." Harry looked up at him with big, sad eyes. _Thank Merlin he's not in Slytherin. Those eyes would get me any time he asked for something._ However, right now, they weren't beseeching, more like pleading. Pleading to be loved, to be accepted. Well, it was Severus's job to make it so.

Since it still seemed unclear to Harry, Severus clarified, "Harry, do your pathetic excuses for relatives give your cousin a party and gifts for his birthday?" Confused by the change in subject, Harry nodded hesitantly. _That and_ much _more._ "And does your cousin have to _do_ anything to earn this? Do his parents make sure he _deserves_ their love and devotion?" Harry shook his head. Even when he yelled at them and broke things, they never punished him. Severus continued with his questions. "Do you think parents expect their children to work to deserve their care, or do they give it freely?" When this one seemed to confuse Harry, he tried a different tactic. "If your friend, Mr. Weasley was especially troublesome, do you assume Mrs. Weasley would toss him out the back door?" Harry shook his head. "Then what makes you think you have to _do_ anything to earn a few gifts and a party for your birthday, as one usually receives." Harry furrowed his brow in obvious thought. He didn't really have an answer, yet at the same time, he could say with perfect certainty he still thought he shouldn't get it for free. "Harry, when I adopted you, I was aware of all the rights and responsibilities that came along with being your father. Feeding you and clothing you are a part of that, but so are making sure you are happy and giving you what you lack. Right now, that's a proper birthday party. If other children don't have to do anything to deserve their parent's love, do you?"

Harry thought long and hard about that one. He knew he had parents once, and that they loved him; why else would they die to save him? But ever since he'd been in his relatives' house, he'd learned no one would love him. Yet, here, his professor wanted to be his dad, and was asking if he had to do something to deserve that. Harry still was unsure of the truth, yet, in this moment, he knew what answer his father wanted to hear, and that was the only answer that mattered.

"No, Daddy," he breathed. As he blinked, a single tear left his eye and slid down his cheek. So very softly, as the touch of a feather, Severus reached out and brushed the tear away. This one act, so gentle and affectionate, was enough to shatter the last shred of Harry's control and the tears came pouring down his face for the second time that day.

"Then I'll hear no more nonsense about what you do and don't deserve, or not being a good enough son?" Harry shook his head and threw his arms around his father's neck, bawling in its crook. After a few minutes of loud sobbing, Harry sniffled one final time and said into his father's shoulder,

"I love you, Daddy."

With the impression that he could actually _feel_ his heart knit back together, Severus replied, "I love you, too, Son."

* * *

When all the emotion and mushiness was dealt with, Severus and Harry set up for supper, adding two additional plates for the upcoming arrivals. The two aforementioned arrived at seven sharp, flooing in with a great amount of noise. Severus made his way to the living room with suspicion, sincerely hoping Albus had not indulged in his usual flamboyance. Indeed, to his great irritation, not only Albus, but Poppy as well, had brought along far more ornamentation than had been discussed.

"You too, Poppy?" he asked with a glare.

The medi-witch shrugged, countering with a smirk, "It's not like it's for you, is it? Besides, Harry has a lot to make up for."

Severus was about to retort when a smiling Harry ran into the room, a look of awe crossing his features when he spied all the clutter around the newcomers. Severus's words died on his lip at the look of complete joy on his son's face. _Poppy is right. He deserves this._

"Wow! Dad, look at all this stuff? Are we gonna decorate the house with it?" His exuberance seemed as unending as the words flowing from his mouth that his brain seemed unable to stop. "Professor Dumbledore! You'll never believe it, I have a Dad now!" And although she was standing right next to him, he then turned to Madame Pomfrey and exclaimed, "Did you hear, I got adopted!"

The medi-witch smiled fondly at the young wizard. The energetic child before her was nothing like the frightened waif of a boy that she'd seen at the start of the year; and this caused her delight beyond words. "Is that so? I'm pleased to hear it." While she suffered endless chatter from Harry, Albus and Severus had moved to the kitchen to set up, and talk.

"You've done well with Harry, my boy." Albus commented, hanging streamers along the cupboards with his wand.

Severus tried to hide the warmth the praise elicited within him, huffing in acceptance instead. "It's easier to deal with him when there's no danger for him to get caught up in," he informed the older wizard.

The man twinkled his eyes at him, which did nothing to help his rising embarrassment and subsequent irritation. "I'm sure it's more than that, but no concern, my boy. All that matters is Harry's happiness." Severus indicated his agreement with silence, which lasted until shortly after, when Harry led a resigned Poppy into the kitchen by hand.

"Can I help, Dad?" he asked, upon seeing the two older wizards busy with decorations.

"Most certainly," Severus replied, promptly sweeping his child up in his arms and holding him to the ceiling; Harry shrieked in delight at the motion. "I would be truly grateful if you could cast a levitation charm on those golden stars, Giant Harry. I seem to be unable to reach." Harry giggled and did as his father asked. Severus couldn't help but squeeze the boy's sides as he lowered him, causing him to break out in peals of laughter.

When the kitchen was properly teeming with decorations; streamers on the walls, balloons on all the chairs, golden stars suspended wirelessly from the ceiling, sparkling confetti on the tablecloth, the four sat down to enjoy a hearty meal. Looking about the room, Severus couldn't help but feel it was too much, but one look at Harry was all it took to reaffirm his decision to muddle through the rest of this day as best he could.

Dinner was a warm affair, with Harry frequently thinking he would wake up from this wonderful dream, smiling each time he found it was really real. Treacle tart was brought out for desert, to Harry's great delight. The crust on the top spelled out, Happy Birthday Harry! And candles in the shape of fire-breathing dragons sat atop it. With his eyes closed, Harry wished as hard as he could – _I wish that Dad will be proud of me and will keep me as his son_ forever – and blew out the candle.

After dessert was cleared away, Albus and Poppy presented their gifts to Harry. Harry knew his dad must have talked to them, since they fit perfectly with what his dad had given him. Back in Harry's room, Albus materialized a large wooden chest with his chest that he set in the corner of the room. Inside, Harry felt endless amount of toys and games to play with. Upon feeling something soft, he pulled out a large stuffed lion and blushed. He returned it to the box carefully, intending to retrieve it later, before bed. Of course he wasn't a _baby_ , he didn't need to sleep with a doll; it was just soft. Madame Pomfrey's gift was more restrained. She brought forward two bags filled with books for Harry to stack on his bookshelves. Harry's excitement was no less pronounced at this and he presented Madame Pomfrey with the same bear hug he'd given the headmaster. Though initially irritated at Albus for spoiling the boy, Severus once again let the frustration go in lieu of sharing in Harry's happiness. While Harry felt this was the best day of his life, he had no idea Severus would be cherishing it as well.

At last, after the company had bid farewell, an overwrought Harry was put to bed after such a tasking day, even making no protest when Severus helped him get in pajamas and tucked him in.

Severus sat by his bedside for some time, telling him a story. The sound of his velvety smooth voice lulled Harry to sleep, with a sense peace he'd never known before. Upon finishing the tale, Severus set to rise, only to stop at the quiet sound of a mumbled,

"G'night, Dad."

"Goodnight, Harry." Before leaving, he leaned down to touch his lips gently to the boy's forehead, whispering, "Happy birthday, Son."


	2. Second Year

**A/N: Welcome back! I have made a huge mistake in that I forgot to mention my amazing beta, FelixFelicisWriter, in the first chapter so here's me giving her a big thanks. The first part of this two-shot is placed right at the beginning of second year. As Severus has recently adopted Harry and informed him of the need to keep it a secret, I found it fitting to add a scene describing how Harry deals with it.**

 **The second of the two-shot skips to the end of the year after Harry defeats the basilisk and Fawkes flies him out of the Chamber. In this version, Fawkes didn't realize he was poisoned because the Basilisk venom works slowly, unlike in the book where it works quickly, so when Harry is taken to the Hospital Wing no one knows why he's dying. Anyway, this story starts with Severus entering the Hospital Wing after hearing, from Dumbledore, that Harry was brought back. Read on….**

Harry entered Potion's class excitedly. It was his first class with his father this year. Trying to suppress a grin in front of Ron, Harry led them to their seats. While the other students jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut at their teacher's entrance, Harry just sat politely, expecting something of the sort. He was able to look past the sneer on the man's face as he surveyed the classroom. When his eyes landed on Harry, he couldn't help but turn his lips up a little at the corners at the man in greeting.

"Ah, Mr. Potter back for another year of mischief, are you? Well, wipe that smirk off your face; you should know by now that I will tolerate no foolish antics or misbehavior."

Harry's face fell, before he remembered what he'd discussed with his father a few days before. _Right, I shouldn't be excited for Potions class._ He looked down at his book, properly chastised. Today, they were brewing a simple Pepper-Up Potion. Harry looked carefully at the instructions on the board at the front of the classroom and began cutting up ingredients for the potion. When his father came to stand behind him, Harry's heart swelled with pride, but he tried not to let it show.

"Hmm, Mr. Potter. Adequate as ever. If you'd read the instructions on the board you'd know your potion is supposed to be a bright lilac color at the moment. Don't tell me you think yourself above following the steps correctly." The boy's potion was definitely above par, but it would do no good to appear to be favorable towards Harry Potter.

Harry's head snapped up, in surprise, at his words. His potion _was_ lilac. Just like the instructions said. He opened his mouth to explain politely, when his professor snapped,

"I'll have none of your defiance, Mr. Potter. Five points from Gryffindor." Harry lowered his head, devastated. This wasn't how Potions class was supposed to go. When the man finally moved on to glower at someone else, Ron leaned over and whispered,

"Man, he's sure being hard on you, today. Got any idea why?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought he'd changed. Things were different last year," he stated, more to himself than Ron.

"Yeah, well he's just a greasy git, right?"

Although the man had just finished reproving Harry, a bubble of anger grew in his chest at Ron's words. This was his _dad_ he was talking about. That feeling disappeared though, when a voice from behind him said,

"Detention, Mr. Potter for talking out of turn."

Harry's spirits plummeted further. It was like the past two months hadn't happened at all. Maybe Professor Snape was finally finding out how useless Harry was and decided to let him know this way.

Ron's sympathetic face followed him outside class.

"I thought your potion was fine, mate. Definitely better than mine was." At the end of class, Ron's cauldron had held some unidentifiable brown goo.

"Thanks, Ron." Harry appreciated the gesture and attempted to put the matter out of his mind.

And he did. Until after dinner, that is, when it was time for his detention. Harry walked down to the lower levels of the castle with trepidation, unsure of what to expect.

Reaching his destination, he timidly knocked on Professor Snape's office door. Upon hearing a curt, "come in," Harry opened the door, only to find the office empty. Strangely, the door to his personal quarters was ajar. After some time spent just standing there, the Potions Master's voice flowed from the inner chamber,

"Do not loiter, Mr. Potter. I do not have time to waste." Embarrassed, Harry entered the private area, closing the door behind him. He found his professor in the kitchen, cutting up – what seemed like – ingredients for a salad.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry announced his presence.

Severus looked up from his work. "Harry, you know you don't have to call me that in here." His voice was considerably softer than Harry had heard it all day, which confused him.

"But sir, I thought I was here for a detention." Severus sighed, and set his things aside, wiping his hands on a towel on the counter. He'd assumed he'd need to have some sort of talk with Harry at the start of the year, only he'd thought the boy would have a little more understanding of it than he seemed to possess at the moment.

In class, Severus had been appalled at the excitement on the boy's face upon entering the class. Did he remember nothing of what Severus had told him of secrecy? _Patience,_ he chided himself, _the boy is young, after all. You can't expect him to pick this up right away._ Nevertheless, he was astonished at the amount of hurt visible on the boy's face after some false admonishing. Clearly he'd have to begin instructing the child in Occlumency sooner than expected. Just the basics, of course, and directions on clearing one's mind, yet it was sure to help. In the meantime, Severus gave his son a "detention" in lieu of telling him to come to their quarters later that day.

Now the time was here, and Severus ushered Harry to the couch so they could talk.

"Harry," he began, "do you remember what I told you before classes started? However I act towards you in class has no bearing on how I truly feel for you. Furthermore, once we enter these quarters, I am no longer your teacher, I am your father and you will behave accordingly."

Harry frowned. "So I'm not in trouble then?"

"Not exactly. You've done nothing wrong, Harry," Severus reassured his son, "however, there's a matter relating to your behavior that we need to discuss." Harry nodded, eyes on his lap, still not entirely convinced he wasn't in trouble. "When I reprimanded you earlier today—"

"Oh sir, I'm sorry. I tried to be good, I really did; I followed the instructions, _just_ like you said. I didn't mean to—"

Severus put a hand on his son's arm to stop his ramblings. "Harry what are you to call me in these rooms?"

Harry looked down again, embarrassed. "Dad," he whispered softly.

"That's right, Son. Very good." Harry blushed at the title and the praise. He still wasn't used to having a father, not used to _belonging_ to someone. "What I was _going_ to say," Harry blushed again, at his outburst this time, "is that the things I said in class were just for show." Harry lifted his gaze to his father's eyes, confused. "Remember what I told you the night before the start of term? I explained to you the need for secrecy and the measures we would take to prevent others from finding out about the adoption." Harry remembered that. He remembered not liking the conversation since he'd not been allowed to tell his friends about his new dad, as well as not letting it show that the man was his most favorite person in the whole world. Putting all the pieces together, Harry looked up at his father, saying,

"So, you didn't mean what you said in class? You don't think I'm useless?"

Severus's heart clenched at his son's insecurity, as well as the imploring in his voice. Clearly he'd have to revise his tactics on how he planned to retain his relationship with his son, whilst maintaining its secrecy. He drew close against his side, pleased at the way Harry's form relaxed against his.

"Of course not," he reassured the child. "Far from it. In fact, you are definitely one of the top students in the class. Regardless of the advantage you hold in having a Potions Master as a father." Harry beamed at that. Severus lifted his chin with a finger, to look him in the eye. "One more thing. If ever, in class, you feel that I have hurt you, or simply desire some comfort, tap your wand three times against your desk and I will know to ask you to stay after class so I can give you a hug."

Harry's smile widened, brightening his entire countenance. "Really?"

Severus couldn't help the corners of his mouth from lifting up in response to the boy's jubilance. "Yes. This will be in addition to the times you will come eat dinner with me in our quarters. For this, and any other time I want to see you privately, I will inform you of such by giving you a detention in class. If you ever do deserve an admonishment of some kind, which I sincerely hope you will not," Severus paused to look meaningfully at his son, who shrank in his shirt a little at the glare, "then I will do so in the privacy of our rooms. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, the smile back on his face. "Thanks, Dad." Without warning, he suddenly grabbed Severus in a fierce hug. He was so lucky to have a father who cared so much about him that he'd ask him to stay after class just to give him a hug. _And even though I can't tell people he's my dad, Dad still wants to spend time with me alone, just us. I bet he wouldn't even make me stay in my room if we had company. I'm so lucky to have a dad like Professor Snape._

Severus, confused at the sudden bout of affection, wrapped his arm around Harry anyway. All he'd done was tell him they would have dinner together sometimes – under the pretense of a detention no less – he'd even brought up the subject of punishment, and Harry was acting as if he'd just been given a whole bag of chocolate frogs. Mentally shrugging, Severus tightened his hold on his son. As long as Harry was happy. That was all that mattered anyway.

* * *

Severus rushed to the Hospital Wing as fast as he could without actually flying. He noticed not his surroundings, the worst scenarios of what he would find running though his mind, blocking out everything else. Reaching the Infirmary, he barged through the doors, causing them to bang against the walls, and those, conscious, in the room to look up. Again, he barely registered it. He moved past the occupied beds to a room at the back. Just before he reached it, the door opened and Madame Pomfrey stepped out. The look on her face made Severus's heart pound madly in his chest.

"Let me in," he demanded.

"Severus…"

Severus stepped closer, and lowered his voice to a cold, hard whisper, his eyes a burning black. "Move aside, woman. Let me see my son."

Pomfrey nodded and lowered her head, unable to hold his gaze. She moved away from the door and past Severus to check on the other occupants of the hospital. Out of the corner of his eye, Severus noticed her brush a tear from her cheek.

Steeling his nerves, Severus turned the knob and crossed the threshold of the small room. There was a wide window on the wall opposite him, and a small, wooden table with a vase of flowers placed in the corner. One bed, along with its occupant, filled most of the room. On the other side of the bed sat a wooden chair, which Severus slowly placed himself into. All his movements were slow, as he tried to process the reality of what he saw in front of him.

Harry lay on the bed, his black hair especially messy, as if he'd gotten it all knotted and no one had bothered to fix it for him. This sparked some anger in Severus, but it soon faded when he took in the rest of the boy's appearance. His son's eyes were closed and his face was scratched. He wore the usual, striped hospital outfit that accentuated his still-thin frame. And he was still. Too still.

Moving with the speed of molasses, Severus reached out to touch his forehead. It was cold. The shock registered with him then. His mind sped up and he reached to hold Harry, and felt the weight of the boy was heavier than normal. The thought came to his mind no matter how hard he tried to push it away; dead weight. He set him down again and reached for his hand. It couldn't be. His son wasn't dead. He wasn't. There'd be a way to save him, he would find it. He was a _Potion's Master,_ for Merlin's sake! But looking the boy over, he could not see what was wrong with him; he had no idea what had killed him. NO! Injured him. He was merely injured, he wasn't dead. Not yet.

However, the minutes kept passing and there was no change. If anything, Harry got colder. Severus stood up and went to the window, unable to look at him anymore. Curiously, he felt no anger, no pain, no feeling at all. Severus had been cold before, with his Occlumency shields and his general prickly demeanor, but none of that meant anything now. He was in no danger of being Legilimised, since there would be nothing to find. He had been barely a minute at the window, before he quickly sat back down at his son's side. His heart nearly broke again at the sight of the still boy, yet he could not bear to look away. In fact, he never intended to leave the chair he sat in, not unless his son got out of that bed.

Severus noticed the silence of the room. He should have been able to hear voices from the exterior room, however, all was quiet. A Silencing Charm then. Presumably Pomfrey. _Smart,_ Severus thought. There was no telling what he would do if he came into contact with another human being. Right now, he was calm, but it was a precarious position. He stood on the edge of a knife; the slightest tip; and he would fall, slicing whoever had come across him. There was no one exempt from his wrath, everyone, and anyone, was responsible for his son's state, and all would pay.

So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, that he didn't notice the bird flying in through the window until it was resting on the headboard above Harry.

"Stupid bird." Severus muttered, trying to shoo it away. In his grief, he failed to notice the gold and red plumage or bright, fierce amber eyes that looked to be filling with liquid. The phoenix let out a trilling call and Severus calmed. The bird continued crooning, as if giving Severus a lullaby, and Severus watched, entranced as a shining tear dripped from the bird's eye onto Harry's still face.

Severus gasped. _Of course, phoenix tears._ Feeling hope start to bloom in his chest, and trying desperately not to quash it, he watched as color began to return to his son's face. Fawkes let out a triumphant screech and Severus looked at the bird with gratitude.

"Thank you, Fawkes. Thank you."

The bird pierced him with his penetrating eyes, reminding Severus of its master, then spread his wings and swept out of the room the same way he'd entered. Turning back to Harry, Severus was relieved to see more color in his cheeks, and reaching out to touch his forehead, gasped at the warmth he felt beneath his fingertips. Reaching forward, he grabbed the boy's hand again, and squeezed. He almost laughed with joy when he felt a returning pressure. Not a second later, the boy's chest rose as he took in a deep breath and lowered as he exhaled, his eyes opening to see the last thing he'd ever expected to see, something he thought to be impossible: his father sitting by his bedside, a small smile on his face as tears ran freely down his cheeks.

Harry blinked, not sure the sight was real, but when he opened his eyes, his father was still there.

"Dad?" he croaked.

"Shh." The man stroked his forehead some more, brushing away the mattered hair. "You've been injured; you still need to heal. Just rest for now."

"Ok." Harry said, indeed feeling sleepy, and the bed he lay on definitely felt comfy. And his dad was there, which meant nothing could hurt him. Yawning, Harry considered saying something else, but opening his mouth would take too much energy. He could just lie there and…. A terrible thought came to him right before he drifted into unconsciousness, and he gathered enough energy to say,

"Stay with me."

"Of course, Harry." Satisfied his father would not leave while he was sleeping, Harry drifted off.

Sitting next to him, Severus let out an enormous sigh of relief. That had been too close. He would not let anything like that happen ever again. He would take Harry somewhere safe and make sure… he could not even finish the thought. He knew it would be impossible. Even if Albus would allow him to put the child on lockdown, there was no way of avoiding trouble with that boy. He attracted it like a magnet. At least luck was drawn to him as well. Not to mention bravery. Merlin, his son was brave. _Foolish,_ he thought, contemplating what punishment he would be doling out for the boy's rash behavior, _but incredibly brave._

The next time Harry awoke, he found, to his immense pleasure, his dad still there, though Madame Pomfrey was now on his other side, checking him over for any lingering injuries.

"Good morning, dear," the kind medi-witch said, noticing he was awake. "You gave us quite a scare." She looked meaningfully at Severus as she said this. Harry smiled a little sheepishly. His smile faded though, when he noticed the frown on his father's face.

"We will definitely be speaking about your behavior, young man." Harry cowed and tried to disappear into the mattress he lay on.

Madame Pomfrey fixed Severus with a stern eye. "Now, Severus. Be gentle with the boy; he's just had a traumatic experience."

"I'll thank you not to tell me how to discipline my son, Madame. Now, if you are finished with your examinations, I would like to talk to him alone."

She sighed. "Very well, Severus. You take it easy there, Harry." With that, she left the room.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Harry whispered, as soon as she was gone, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them. At his words, the look on Severus's face changed from mild scolding, to high disapproval, and perhaps even anger.

"As well you should be. I am very disappointed in you, Harry. You directly disobeyed my orders! How dare you run off like that without saying anything!? You know what you are supposed to do in situations of danger; you _call me_! And what if you had gotten seriously hurt? Without Fawkes you would've died! I have rules for a reason, and you can't just decide to break them!"

By the time the tirade was over, Harry was openly crying. He had feared this would happen. His dad would realize he was too much trouble, it didn't pay to take care of him, and he would give him away, just like the Dursleys wanted to. He would be left alone again, with no one to care for him. _Stupid Harry,_ he thought, _why would you think someone wants to take care of you? You're too much trouble, no one wants you; you're just a freak._ It was something he'd known all his life, something that'd been drilled into him by his relatives. He was good for nothing, worthless, just a freak. His father had tried to tell him different, but now, even he was starting to realize the truth. It wouldn't be long before he told Harry he didn't want him, before he told him to go away. That realization scared Harry more than anything. Forgetting it did no good to beg, he cried,

"Please, Daddy, don't send me away! I'll be good, I promise!"

Severus started. He had thought this had been over. He thought he'd impressed on the boy enough that he wasn't going to give him up. That he still thought Severus would leave him broke him more than the possibility of losing him. Losing the severe expression he wore, he lowered himself to Harry's level and took his hand gently.

"I won't leave you, Harry. I promised, remember? I'll always be your father."

Harry stopped crying and looked up with hope in his eyes. "But I'm too much trouble for you. You won't want to care for me anymore. I'm not good for anything, I'm just a freak."

The dark anger was back. The one that was so dangerous for anyone who tried to stop it, the one that defended Harry and hurt those who tried to harm him. Through clenched teeth, Severus said,

"What did I say, Harry, about using that word? You are not allowed to say that about yourself. You are not useless, and you are certainly good for something. You rescued Miss Weasley, did you not? And how many twelve-year-olds can say they fought a basilisk?"

Harry grew confused. "But you were mad, I caused trouble for you, I made you upset, I broke the rules."

Severus shook his head. "I was upset because you worried me, Harry. The rules I place for you are to keep you safe, out of harm. I get upset when you break them because you put yourself in danger, and I risk losing you. You are by no means too much trouble and I will never, ever send you away. Do you understand me, Harry?" With drying tears on his cheeks, he nodded yes. "I want you to say it, Harry. Tell me you know I'll never leave you."

"I know you won't leave me, Daddy."

Severus's expression was still sad. "No, you don't. But I hope you will, someday. Now, come here." He held out his arms and Harry rushed to climb into them. Severus held his son tightly pressed against his chest, and enjoyed the feeling of warmth it gave him. Harry hugged his father tightly, never wanting to let go. He knew his dad thought differently, but he knew he wouldn't be sent away. At least for now. His dad promised to always take care of him, and he believed him.

"I was so worried about you," he heard his father whisper.

Harry almost started to cry again. He didn't want to make his father sad. "I'm sorry, Daddy, but I had to save her."

"I know, son. Just promise me you'll come to me first from now on. That way, I can help you and you won't get hurt." Drawing away, he added, "Just because I forgive you doesn't mean you won't lose privileges, young man. You still disobeyed me and that gives me the right to take away your broom for two weeks." He ignored the lost puppy face Harry made at that. "This is for your own good; you need to learn to follow the rules so you won't get hurt. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dad." Harry nodded, dutifully. "And you're not mad?"

"No, Harry. Not anymore." And Harry believed him.


	3. Third Year

**A/N: As an early writer, I'd be most grateful for any and all reviews, so please, share your thoughts with me and I'll keep you satisfied with my writings. Prepare for third year...**

Harry opened the door to Snape's private quarters and stepped inside.

"Dad?" he called.

Severus stepped out of his study, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"Sit down," he instructed, gesturing to the sofa in the living room.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Severus had informed Harry of his desire to speak to him, earlier in the day, by giving him a "detention" in Potions, as per usual.

"I hear you've spent some time speaking to Professor Lupin."

Harry shifted his head curiously. "Yeah; what of it?"

"I want you to be more careful; that man is not all he says he is."

Harry shrugged. "He doesn't seem dangerous."

The Potions Master standing over him gave him a sharp look. "I mean it, Harry. You are to stay away from him; try avoiding situations where you are alone with him."

"Why?"

Severus crossed his arms. "That is not your concern. And I will take no more objections, young man. This is for your own good."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever. Fine."

Satisfied for now, Severus let the matter drop. "Good. Now, let us address that atrocity of a potion's essay you handed in recently. You know better than that. You'll spend the rest of your "detention" rewriting it."

Harry sighed loudly, but after a quick glance at the frown on his father's face, he got to work.

* * *

Harry _did_ try to heed his father's words, but Professor Lupin was just so open and friendly, not to mention he was brilliant at teaching Defense, and that made it hard to try and avoid him. There was just something about him that made Harry want to trust him. He knew he should listen to his father, but he liked Professor Lupin and there was nothing about the man that screamed "dangerous," so the directive was moved to the back of his mind. Consequently, following the lesson on Boggarts, when Professor Lupin asked for Harry to stay for a moment, he complied.

 _It's not like I should refuse a teacher,_ he thought, intending to use it as an excuse if his father inquired after the incident. Nonetheless, that was not the real reason he stayed. He wished to know why the professor had not let him face the boggart.

"So, Harry, you wanted to know why I pulled you away from the boggart, didn't you?" Professor Lupin said, reading Harry correctly. Harry nodded in response. He listened carefully to his professor's explanation, meanwhile trying to figure out why his father mistrusted the man.

After explaining what his boggart actually was, reminded of the dementor on the train, a thought came to him, leading to him ask,

"What you did on the train…"

"It's called a Patronus, Harry. It wards off dementors. Despite its status as an O.W.L. Level charm, considering your severe reaction to their influence, I could give you private lessons on casting a Patronus, if you like."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He didn't really want to refuse, but he was sure his father would _not_ be happy with him having private lessons with Professor Lupin, if he didn't even want him to be alone with the wizard.

"I'll think about it," he replied, instead.

Professor Lupin smiled at him. "That's alright." He leaned back against his desk. "You know, you remind me a lot of your father." For a moment, Harry panicked. _How does he know? No one is supposed to know!_ he thought. Then, he realized what his teacher meant. _Of course. He means James._ Harry's interests peaked again.

"Did you know him?"

Remus nodded. "We were in the same year. I was one of your father's closest friends."

Harry smiled. "Really?" He was always looking for people who could tell him about his parents. His dad had encouraged this, making it clear he wanted Harry to have parents he could picture and have some idea of their persons. His dad had supplied quite a few stories of his mum from their childhood together, himself. Though refusing to impart anything of James himself, he encouraged Harry to look elsewhere for stories on his father. But Harry had a new dad now, and, at eleven, had not felt it necessary to go after tales of a father he'd never known, when he had a real one there for him. However, now, Harry was older and was curious again about the kind of man his father was; he was, therefore, intrigued by what this man had to say. He wanted to know all about his father's school days, his relationship with his mum, his friends and hobbies (aside from quidditch, of course,) but first, there was something he needed to know. If this man knew James Potter as much as he claimed, maybe he could clear something up for Harry.

"Do you know why Professor Snape hates me so much? I know it has something to do with my father." It hurt Harry a little to say it like this – he hated the charade he had to put up – but there was no other way for him to ask without arousing suspicion. Remus looked at him and sighed.

"It's a pretty sensitive topic, and quite complicated. Perhaps I'll explain it to you another time."

Harry frowned. "I just want to understand what I can do to improve how he treats me in class. I feel I could better in Potions if he didn't hate me. Maybe you can explain just a little?"

Remus, who was already looking flustered, turned and picked up some parchment from his desk, shuffling it in his hands. "You know, Harry. I have a lot to do now, how about you come to me a different time?" His voice was still kind, though now, it sounded more a cover to mask whatever he was unwilling to share.

With an internal sigh, Harry tried something else. "Maybe just some other stories? I haven't heard that much about him."

Remus looked at Harry with a pained expression for a moment, before shaking his head and forcing a smile. "I'm sorry, Harry, I have other classes to prepare for now, but if you want, you could—"

"That's alright, Professor. Thanks for your time." Harry picked up his bag, and hurried out of the classroom.

His face burned with annoyance as he stalked through the halls to his next class. Professor Lupin seemed really uncomfortable talking about his dad once Severus was brought up. This furthered Harry's sense that something really bad had happened between them, and he was sure it wasn't just about his mum. Fine; if Lupin didn't want to tell him about his father, he'd find someone else.

The whole matter was forgotten, however, when Harry was called to his dad's office at the end of the day and told he would be starting regular patronus lessons with his father, seeing as how intense his reaction to them was. Harry was delighted; he loved getting private lessons from his dad, who was a really good educator one-on-one and even managed to produce a bright light, focusing on the memory of his adoption.

Harry was getting settled into the new term, doing well in his classes, even progressing in his Patronus lessons, when Professor Lupin called him to his office after his class one day. Ever since he'd been shut down by the man, Harry had been more mindful of his father's warning, having no problem keeping his distance from the Defense Professor. Harry followed his professor reluctantly to his office, slumping in the chair in front of the desk and staring sullenly at the wall.

Sitting down as well, Lupin sighed at seeing Harry's posture and began. "Harry, I want to apologize for the way I dealt with the question you asked me last time we were alone together. It was a perfectly legitimate inquiry and I should have handled my response better. I was simply surprised. It is a sensitive topic, one I haven't had to think about in over fifteen years."

Harry sat up, knowing he was being disrespectful and also a little childish. He nodded in response to the apology. He had acted rather badly in the situation too. Remus continued,

"I should've told you, Harry, but like I said, it's a sensitive issue, one I prefer not to speak about. I know it is not fair to keep this from you, but understand Harry, you barely got to know your father, I thought you'd rather think of him in a good light. If I were truthful to myself, I'd say I preferred to avoid bringing forth memories that portray my own guilt as well." The more Lupin talked, the more apprehensive Harry became. He'd hoped to get a simple answer to his question, one that would satisfy his curiosity on something that would put to rest something that mattered little enough anymore.

"Was it his fault then?" Harry asked, determined to get some real information at last. "Something my dad did that made Snape hate him?"

Remus stared down at his desk in shame, the only response Harry needed.

"What did he do?" Harry knew he should proceed with caution, hearing both sides and only then drawing his own conclusions, yet suddenly, he was filled with anger for his father who never had anyone there for him, who walked around with this visible – at least to Harry's eyes – pain every day.

"It wasn't exactly one thing." Remus clarified.

"Then what was it?"

The weary-looking man ran a hand over his face. "Listen, Harry. I know it's hard hearing your father wasn't all you thought he was, but this period in his adolescence does not erase all the good he was either."

"Just tell me what he did, already!" Harry could not help but blurt. The itch of not knowing was just getting too strong, and Harry fought not to jump out of his seat.

"It wasn't just him. And it wasn't just Severus." Harry sighed, but sat back again. "In our school days, your father and I were part of a sort of club. It was us and two other boys. James and, his best friend, Sirius were very popular, and quite the pranksters. Everyone and anyone was a target, however, there were a few that stood out among the rest."

"Like Snape."

"Yes." Remus lowered his gaze again, though he managed to keep his head up. "You see, Harry, your father grew up in a privileged home; he was used to a certain way of living and brought that attitude with him to Hogwarts. As time progressed, things became increasingly tense in the Wizarding World with You-Know-Who rising to power and people became more wary of Dark Magic and anything related to it, including, unfortunately Slytherins."

"So my father, a spoiled brat, attacked Snape because he assumed he was in league with a madman he'd never met?" This was not how Harry'd wanted the conversation to go. It wasn't lost on Harry on what he'd referred to his father as, and it's resemblance to how Snape described Potter Senior at the start of First Year. It seemed he was right about that; Harry wondered what else his father was right about.

"Of course not, Harry." Lupin replied, trying to salvage the conversation. "Your father and Sirius met Severus on the train to Hogwarts and immediately developed a mutual dislike. While James and his friends were popular, Severus was not, and this painted him as a target."

"A target for what?"

"Pranks, mostly. As I said, most pranks were random, save for a few people who were regular targets, Severus included. Harry, you must understand, it was all meant in good fun, not really to cause harm."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked, hotly. "Did it seem that way to Se-Snape? I'm sure he enjoyed all the "good fun" they were having."

"It wasn't like he was defenseless, Harry. He got some pretty good hits in there himself, even outnumbered."

"Hits?! Outnumbered?! Oh yeah, that sounds very much like Gryffindor bravery to me. So what were the odds again?" Harry pretended to count on his fingers. "That's right, four to one. And always good fun, except Snape had to get in some "hits" to even the score." Glaring at Lupin, he finished, "Sounds a lot like bullying to me." After a brief silence, where Remus had nothing to say, Harry continued, "How often? How often was he targeted?"

Remus, not having the strength to protest, answered simply, without much emotion, "Most days. At least once a week."

"And always four on one?"

"Many times, but not always." Remus could have mentioned that Severus wasn't always alone either, at least in the later years, if he hadn't known it would do more harm than good.

Inside, Harry felt as if he could cry. This was not what he'd wanted to find out. "Great," he said, standing up and forcing the tears back. "Thanks for letting me know my father was a bully. I'm glad I finally got to learn the truth everyone tried to hide from me. At least I don't falsely think of him as a hero. Great, I got that settled. Now I might just start agreeing with whatever I hear Professor Snape say, considering he's been more truthful to me than anyone else." Without waiting to hear a response to his outburst, Harry picked up his bag and fled the room.

* * *

Once free from the confines of the tense conversation and Lupin's shameful eyes, Harry let the tears fall from his eyes. Not bothering to wipe them away as he ran, they obscured his vision, causing him to almost knock into the walls. Harry paid no attention to the route he was taking, not caring, simply trying to put some distance between himself and that office. He ran and ran, until finally, getting tired, he sunk down in a secluded alcove, his knees up to his chest, breathing hard.

Harry's insides burned and his thoughts turned over and over in his mind. In less than five minutes, his whole world had been turned upside down. He no longer knew what to think.

Severus Snape and James Potter; two immensely important figures in his life, people who shaped him, meant so much to him, it tore him apart to have his images of them shaken so. He'd always been proud of being James Potter's son, of what people had said of him, proud to have a father who loved him enough to die for him. Now, all he saw was another bully. Harry thought of Dudley and his friends, of the torment he'd endured at their hands. It was ironic really. When he'd first arrived at Hogwarts, Professor Snape had hated him, blaming him for the hurt Potter Senior had caused him. Little did he know, Harry had already received that treatment from his own family. It was almost like Harry had to pay for his dad's sins. And Severus…

Harry almost gasped aloud, tears, once again, springing to his eyes. Severus had taken him in without a thought. Even knowing whose son he was, he had no problem being Harry's father. His body shook as he contemplated that. How could he face his father now, knowing what had caused him to hate Harry's biological dad? _He'll send me back,_ he thought, in terror. _He'll send me back to the Dursley's for knowing. He won't want me anymore. How can I blame him? I look like the guy that made his life miserable for seven years. I deserve to be back at the Dursley's. Where I won't hurt my dad anymore._ Forcing himself to pull himself together, Harry wiped his eyes and stood up, walking slowly back to his dorm.

* * *

The next few days were particularly hard for Harry as he tried to wrap his brain around the enormous change to many of his views, and in such a short span of time. With no one to properly talk to about it, he ran through it in his mind, himself. Severus, his dad, had always seemed such a strong figure to him, not someone to even _think_ of messing with. Imagining him being bullied and by none other than Harry's first dad, hurt. A lot. In potions class, Harry couldn't meet his father's eyes – too embarrassed to face him – keeping more quiet than usual and ignoring the necessary barbs coming his way. At the back of his mind, in a place he wanted to shut up, a voice told him Severus really meant what he was saying, that Harry _was_ just like his bullying father, that he really did like the attention. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable as class went on, Harry felt the need to rush out as soon as the bell rang, not paying the Potion's Master any notice on his way out.

Harry didn't show up for his patronus lesson that day. His thoughts were too muddled for him to concentrate. _I won't be able to produce light as bright as a Lumos,_ he convinced himself. Not bothering to send his dad a note, he returned to his dorm after dinner and went to sleep.

Severus sat in his quarters, musing over his day, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. Harry had behaved very oddly in class. Usually, he either ignored Severus or muttered about him to his friends, occasionally glaring at the man when his back was turned. Severus had not felt the boy's gaze on him once throughout the double period they'd had. His gaze had been kept to his work, which was uncharacteristically sloppy. He'd needed Granger to keep his cauldron from exploding. Stranger still, he hadn't shown up for his Patronus lesson, which Severus knew he loved. Perhaps he was tired, worn out from schoolwork; for all Severus knew, it could be the ever-depressing presence of the dementors affecting him. As for the lesson he missed, Severus assumed Harry fell asleep inadvertently or some other plausible explanation. He knew his son well enough that he wouldn't just not show up without good reason. Surely the boy would come to him at his next potion's lesson to discuss the issue with him. Matter put out of mind, Severus rose and returned to his office to deal with the piles of essays waiting to be graded.

Harry awoke from his nap, but did not get out of bed. He knew he had work to do, he knew he should have gone to his Patronus lesson, but somehow, the thought of seeing his father right now, disturbed him. Things were different now; they might never be the same and Harry felt more comfortable avoiding the whole issue for the time being.

If only it were that easy though. He still had to go to lessons and see both his Defense and Potions professors who were the center of this whole mess. He had finally worked through all his thoughts until he came to one conclusion.

 _I am my father's son._ In reality, he had two fathers, each of which was completely different from the other. One was a Gryffindor, the other a Slytherin. One was a bully, the other a victim. One arrogant and reckless, one intelligent and cautious. The figures blurred in his head, becoming a jumbled mess.

At first, Harry had been able to identify himself with both of them, find himself in parts of the men he looked up to, the men who made him the person he was. Now, he had no idea who either of them, or even who he, was.

 _I am my father's son._ Something Severus had impressed on him the second he'd stepped foot in Hogwarts. Although not all he'd said was correct, it was still true. Harry _was_ like his father, though with the new knowledge he had, he wished he weren't. Everything Snape had said that first year, all the insults, came rushing back to him in more clarity than ever before. Harry reveled in the fame he got from his skill at Quidditch, he jumped at the chance to duel Malfoy, all the rules he'd ever broken because he'd _had_ to, he didn't seem that different from his father after all.

Harry skipped his next Patronus lesson as well. What if Severus would hate him now that he knew how much like his father he really was? This feeling worsened further in the potion's lesson following the skipped meeting, where Severus's comments got to Harry more than they ever had before. Even more, he'd received no note from his father on why he'd skipped the first time. In fact, it seemed as though he couldn't care at all. Catching sight of the usual sneer on his professor's face, as he walked into class, Harry wondered if his father was regretting adopting Harry in the first place. Surely he was thinking he'd been wrong about the boy; he was just as bad as he'd first assumed. From the look on his face, it was obvious, his father—no, his professor wanted nothing more to do with him.

When Professor Snape began his lecture, Harry simply doodled in his notebook, no longer caring about his schoolwork, now that he had no father to please.

Severus, at the front of the room, was getting tired of his son's behavior. First, there'd been the lesson he'd missed. Severus'd assumed there'd been a good reason for that, though now he wasn't so sure. Usually, whether or not he needed help, he'd come visit Severus down in the dungeons at least once a week. Now, it had been nearly two weeks since he'd seen his son in private, something that disturbed him greatly. Obviously, something was bothering the boy, and instead of coming to speak to him about it, he chose to sulk, ignoring the help available to him. Exasperated, Severus barked at the boy, intending to jolt him out of his mood, remind him he had someone to count on.

"Head up, Potter! You are not exempt from paying attention. Arrogant child!" he sneered. "Just like—"

"Just like my father, am I?" Harry shocked Severus by abruptly standing up, overturning his stool in the process. His voice rose as he continued. "You have no right to say that! You have no idea who I am!" The room silent. Ignoring the shocked and angry looks from the Gryffindors, and smug faces from the Slytherins, Harry stared straight at his fath—professor, anger in his whole posture.

Severus folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at the outburst. When Harry's defiance didn't abate, the Potions Master lowered his voice menacingly and drawled,

"Detention, Mr. Potter. And fifty points from Gryffindor."

"Fine!" Harry slammed his book shut and grabbed his things, racing out the classroom door, leaving a stunned class in his wake.

"Quiet!" Severus barked, to still any rising conversation in reaction to what'd just occurred. He continued his lecture, though his thoughts wouldn't settle down. What was _with_ that boy? Severus had not brought up his father since the beginning of first year. Surely the boy would've realized he was talking about himself, not James Potter. The points, which Severus usually refrained from taking from Harry, to avoid being unfair, were for the blatant disrespect, both to his teacher and his father. Therefore, they were rightly deserved, not cause for more dissent. He only hoped the boy would regain his senses in time for his detention.

* * *

Harry ran through the corridors blindly, trying not to cry. He hadn't cried for losing his first parents; there was no reason to cry now. If he'd had doubts before, they were gone now. Professor Snape had abandoned him, as he'd assumed he would all along. He should've known it was too good to be true. Who would really want to adopt Harry anyway? He was worthless, useless, just a _freak_. The word pierced Harry and he stumbled into a wall, sliding down it to the floor, where he sat and cried.

Eventually, his self-pity turned to anger and hatred for all the people who'd hurt him. For Lupin who'd opened his eyes to all this, to the Dursleys who hurt him the most, to Dumbledore who sent Harry to them, for Voldemort for taking him away from his parents, and even for James who wasn't decent enough to leave people alone. Most of all, was his hatred for Severus, his once-father, who now chose to throw him away. He was worse than the Dursleys. They, at least, didn't pretend to care about him, they treated him as they always felt he deserved. Snape pretended to want him, to love and care for him, only to toss him away as soon as he tired of him. _That's all you deserve._ A voice inside Harry said. _You're nothing, you'll always be a freak._ Sadness took over again and, wanting to have the privacy of his room, Harry ran back to Gryffindor Tower.

Since potions was the last class of the day, Harry would be expected to report to his detention soon after. Sure he would be facing a thrashing, Harry opted not to go. He stayed in bed, unsure of how much time passed, until he felt Ron shaking him for dinner. He told Ron he wasn't hungry and waited for him to leave. Truth be told, finding out he would be unadopted did make him lose his appetite.

Eventually, he made his way down to the Common Room, where he began researching plants for his Herbology essay in one of the plush armchairs near the stairs. People came trickling back from dinner and the room filled up with those, like Harry, busy with homework, or chatting with friends.

Suddenly, the Portrait door banged open, and a figure in billowing, black robes stepped through. Striding forward, he stopped in front of Harry, his face livid.

"My. Office. Now." Harry met his gaze, but failed to hold it; despite his previous hatred for the man, he felt strangely ashamed to have angered him so. That look had not been aimed at him in a while. Trying not to seem meek, he closed his book and stood up, following the dour man as he spun on his heel and left the way he came. Harry ignored the looks of terror on the faces around him, deciding he would deal with the punishment coming his way with dignity – he couldn't deny he deserved it, even as he wished he could still have a father. He shook the thought off. It did no good wishing, it never did.

Realizing they weren't headed where he thought, Harry looked around to make sure he knew where he was. This wasn't the way to Snape's office, but to his quarters. _Why would we be going there?_ Harry thought, puzzled. _There he can beat you and no one will hear you scream._ Harry shivered at the thought. Professor Snape wouldn't do that to him, he wouldn't. Then again, he had seemed especially angry. There was no telling what was in store for Harry.

Once inside their—his quarters, with the door closed, Severus rounded on the boy.

"What is wrong with you? You know to come to me when something is bothering you, not sulk like a child. And there is _no_ reason to be disrespectful."

For some reason the question irked Harry; why was he pretending to care? Maybe he hadn't figured out Harry knew yet and was waiting before kicking him out. His anger flared up again, and he spat,

"Oh, so I'm worthy of talking to now, am I? Not just someone for you to mess with, _Professor_?"

Severus's anger receded, confusion taking its place. He decided to start again. "Harry, what—?"

"Oh, so its Harry now, is it? Even _saying_ the name Potter too much for you?"

Severus was genuinely confused. Surely he'd misread something. Why was the boy acting so strange? The way he called him "professor," how angry he seemed, the avoiding, not wanting to talk to Severus; it was almost as if he…hated him. As if he…. Oh. Severus had feared this would happen. Harry no longer wanted to be his son. He'd figured out how bad a parent Severus was and was rejecting him. He'd predicted this in the beginning – who'd want him as a father – yet, against his logic, he'd acquiesced and decided on hoping this wouldn't happen. Unfortunately, nature won out in the end, and Severus would lose his son. This hurt more than he'd thought it would. If only he hadn't gotten his hopes up. Trying to mask his grief, he asked more quietly,

"So, you'll be wanting to leave then." The boy's silent glare was all the answer he needed. "We'll have to find someone else to take you in, then."

"What, the Dursleys not good enough for you?"

Severus started. "Don't be absurd. Of course not; I promised you you'd never return there, didn't I?"

 _Yeah, like you promised me_ other _things,_ Harry thought. "Guess I just don't have that much faith in your word, then."

Severus wondered what he'd done to make the boy hate him so, and wished with all his might he could change that, that he could just hold him one more time. I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but held himself back. Not knowing what else to add in the silence that followed, he spoke up,

"You can keep your room if you like."

Harry's face lost most of his anger. "My…room?" That was a strange change of topic.

"Yes. I understand you prefer it, so you may still use it from time to time, if you choose."

Harry was stunned. "You're not going to kick me out first chance you get?"

 _That's_ what Harry thought he would do to him? Severus shook his head sadly. "Of course not. I understand you no longer want me as your father, but that room is yours and…"

Harry didn't hear the rest over the rushing sound in his ears. "You think I don't want you as my father anymore?" his voice was barely above a whisper, yet Severus still caught it.

Severus frowned. "Isn't that why you've been acting out?"

Harry shook his head, eyes wide in astonishment. "I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought you were rejecting me since I knew and you didn't want me as your son, that you'd throw me out cuz I'm like him and you won't like me anymore, I thought…" it went on and on, Harry trembling with emotion as he babbled.

Severus barely comprehended half of what he heard, yet he knew exactly what Harry needed. He strode forward and drew the boy toward him into a tight embrace. The boy responded immediately, returning the embrace with such ferocity, Severus had the wind knocked out of him. When Harry finally let up his grip, Severus grasped him by the shoulders and looked him sharply in the eye.

"Of course I still want you as my son. I have no idea what gave you the idea, but I will _never_ throw you out. I adopted you. That was forever. You're never going to stop being my son; and I will _always_ be your father."

An enormous wave of relief swept over Harry, and in that moment, now that it was gone, he realized exactly how frightened he'd been. Of going back to the Dursleys, of being alone and having no one to love him; the relief of still having his father to take care of him was so great that he began to cry, returning to his father's arms.

"Dad," he sobbed. The awareness of simply being able to still say that made his throat tighter. _Dad, dad, dad, dad,_ he continued in his mind, since he couldn't speak aloud. Harry melted into his father's chest, soothed by his comforting presence and the sense that he was always safe with him.

When all his tears were gone, soaked into the front of Severus's robes, Severus led Harry over to the couch where they could talk.

"All better now?" he asked gently.

Harry nodded, sniffling slightly. He did seem fine, though he placed himself rather close to Severus on the sofa, still recovering from the fear.

"Why didn't you come to your lessons, Harry?" Severus figured out starting out simple was best. "I thought those were important to you."

Harry looked down at his hands. "I was distracted. Lupin said something to me, and I—"

"Lupin?" Severus's face clouded over. "What did he say to you?" he growled.

Harry put a hand on his arm. "Dad, it's fine. It doesn't matter anymore."

He'd had a lot of time to think during his breakdown and had decided he didn't care. So what if his first father was a bully and an idiot; not everyone had dads to be proud of. Harry's would just be another on that list. He had a real flesh and blood father right here, who gave him everything he needed, as well as was someone he could look up to. Besides, while he hadn't _chosen_ to be James Potter's son, Severus _had_ chosen to adopt him. He was here, and James was not. That was it.

Severus continued frowning. "I thought I told you to stay away from him."

"Yeah, and I got no problem with that, it's just, he said he knew my dad, you know, my first one, and since I didn't have any stories of him, I thought I'd ask."

Severus paled. Thankfully, the boy was looking at his knees. "What did you ask?"

Harry looked right up at him, then. "I wanted to know what my dad did to make you hate him so much. That made you hate _me_." Severus was taken aback. The boy meets someone who knew his father and the first thing he asks is what _Severus_ had to do with it, something that wouldn't portray him in a good light. _You never cease to amaze me, Harry,_ he thought. Harry paused momentarily before continuing, "He told me what he did, Dad. He told me what they did to you."

Suddenly, the boy's behavior the past few days made a lot more sense. He figured he would be thrown out for being James's son, now that he knew what had transpired between them. Not knowing what else to say, Severus offered,

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shrugged. "What's there to talk about? He was a bully, that's all that matters. It's well and good he died; I'm not sure what kind of father he'd have been."

Severus started, shooting away from Harry. "Harry James Potter! How dare you speak like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Harry's eyes widened. "What? What'd I do wrong?"

Severus couldn't believe his ears. Surely Harry had not spoken badly of James Potter. It was strange enough being the boy's father without the world imploding, how was he to deal with this? Severus had once thought it'd be a cold day in hell when he defended James Potter, but circumstance had changed and so had his perspective. This was not about him; this was about Harry and his image of his father. Severus realized he could not allow Harry to be so convinced his father was a horrible person.

Severus sighed – this would be difficult. "Harry, your father was a great man and wizard, the things he did in his youth do not negate the love he had for you and your mother, or the fact that he was a wonderful father. How many horrible fathers sacrifice their lives for their children?"

Harry shifted a little in his seat. "How can you defend him though? He tormented you. For _years_."

Severus nodded. "Yes. That happened. As a child, James was very immature and spoiled. He dealt with insecurities by poking fun at others. This was one of his flaws, but he grew out of it. How else do you think Lily agreed to marry him? I've told you enough about her to know what kind of person she was, which people she would love or not, do you think your mother would have married James if she didn't consider him worthy of her love?"

Harry didn't seem to be listening though. He jumped up from the couch, waving his arms about, as he said,

"How can you say those things, Dad? I _know_ what you've been through. I've _been_ there. I know how much it hurts and the feelings that linger afterwards. I'm not surprised you treated me as you did when we first met, looking like James as I do. If only he got what he deserved too."

"Harry, as I said, he was young. As for how I behaved, that was wrong. I hope you know that. I am deeply sorry for how I treated you."

Harry waved the apology off. "I know; that part doesn't matter. But, how can you act so, so…. _calm_ when talking about this? Being young is not an excuse. It doesn't matter how old you are; a bully is a bully."

"Harry, I understand you were upset about what he'd done, but he changed afterwards, and matured. He was a good man, good enough to give his life for you. Does that mean nothing to you? You can't put aside your personal feelings to respect him for that?"

Harry threw up his hands. "Fine. I won't cuss at him or anything."

Severus's expression hardened. "Mind your language, young man. Or I'll add to your detention."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "That was _real_?"

Severus cocked a brow of his own. "You think you can get away with disrespect like that, especially in the classroom? No, you will properly serve that detention, as well as make up your missed Patronus lessons."

Harry's face sobered. Looking down, he said, "Yeah, sorry I acted like that."

"Apology accepted." Severus scrutinized his son. "See, that wasn't so hard. You behaved badly and I forgave you."

Harry was quickly riled up once again. "No, it's not like that. He tormented you for _years_ , and he never _did_ apologize, did he?"

Severus was not happy they were still on this topic, but that was Harry. He wasn't satisfied until he fully understood everything. "I have chosen to forgive him anyway," he intoned calmly.

"But how? _Why_?"

"Because. It doesn't concern you."

Harry snorted. "Yes it does, it's about my father."

" _I_ am your father!"

"Then tell me why!"

"No." Severus turned away, intending to leave the room, when Harry shouted,

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!" Severus whirled around suddenly, startling Harry, who took a step back. Silence filled the room. Knowing the boy would not let it go, Severus continued, more quietly,

"They died because of me."

Harry shook himself out of his shock. "No, they didn't. It was Voldemort." He was unsure of what was happening, but felt extremely unsettled by the look on his father's face. He looked, sort of, ashamed. It scared Harry.

"No, Harry. It wasn't all him." His eyes rose to meet his son's. "You never questioned why he came after you in the first place, did you?" Harry's eyes widened. "The Dark Lord was after something, information that he thought would help him in the war. This information led him to attack your family." Severus prepared himself for what he was about to say next. Half of him screamed not to let the boy know, to hide it from him. _He's too young, he won't understand,_ he thought. _He'll hate me,_ a quieter part of him added. It was the truth. Apart from the heaviness of the knowledge and the maturity needed to deal with it, Severus wanted to avoid telling Harry to evade the subsequent reaction of fear and hatred. Yet, the boy needed this. While Severus had been planning on informing the boy of his past at a later date – preferably when he was a little older – circumstances had circumvented such plans, necessitating the retelling of his unpleasant activities at an earlier date.

"I was the one who brought him this knowledge," he finished.

Harry was quiet for a few minutes, processing, until he finally spoke up.

"Why?"

"It was a horrible mistake. I have never regretted anything more. There was a lot that led up to it, but the main reason was that, I was a lost, deeply hurt, lonely, young man, and I foolishly thought that with You-Know-Who I would receive the acceptance and power I craved."

"You joined Voldemort?" Harry asked, incredulous.

Once again, Severus was tempted to lie, chalk it all up to a big misunderstanding, and allow Harry to leave, image of his father intact. Yet, that wasn't the right thing to do.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you," Harry shook his head back and forth.

Sighing, Severus went into his bedroom to get out his most hated item. He brought the object out to Harry, who had remained in the same place, frozen in his spot. His face blanched at the sight of the thing in Severus's hand, its existence more surprising than its gruesomeness. Harry stared at the skeletal mask, in shock. He heard his mother's voice in his head, screaming for her life. Cold, high laughter followed and a green light that stung. Looking up at his…his father, he asked,

"You got them killed?"

Severus didn't bother denying it. He had nothing he could say.

"How could you?"

Severus wanted to argue. Yet how could "I didn't know" be enough of an excuse? Nevertheless, the look on Harry's face broke his heart and though he had no excuse, he tried to explain to Harry his side.

"I had no idea he would use the information to attack your family. Immediately afterwards, I went to Dumbledore and became a spy for him."

"I don't care!" Harry suddenly screamed. "It was your fault you joined him in the first place!" Severus didn't want him to go on. _I don't want to lose you, Harry,_ he thought. Yet, it was fitting, wasn't it? He didn't deserve to be the boy's father, not after what he'd done. It was fitting he would reject Severus on learning of it.

"I slept in a cupboard because of you!" Harry's temper only intensified in response to Severus's silence. The comment pierced his heart, but it was no more than he deserved. "I didn't have anyone to love me, or even take care of me!" Harry wiped his eyes quickly, trying to pretend he wasn't crying. A comment Severus had made came back to him.

"You sure you're not really a spy for Voldemort? That's why you really adopted me, isn't it? So you could give me to him when he comes back? Why are you so sure he will anyway? I can't believe I trusted you!"

The pain became too much for Severus and he reached out, stepping forward slightly. "Harry," he coaxed, trying to get his son to calm down. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

"NO!" Harry looked right at Severus, face red, eyes puffy from unshed tears, and hatred. Hatred in them like Severus had never seen. Not even when Severus had mistreated him in first year, did he see that in Harry's eyes. "You took my parents away from me! All because you were a greasy git who no one wanted to be friends with! I HATE YOU!"

With that, Harry ran from the room.

Severus exhaled and collapsed on the couch behind him. He put his head in his hands and pushed his emotions away with Occlumency. He wouldn't cry now, not again. The things Harry did to him; at least that would be over now. Severus pretended that didn't hurt as much as it really did. Harry had been the best thing in his life, and he had pushed him away, just like with Lily.

 _Oh, Lily,_ he thought, _I'm sorry. I failed you. I couldn't care for your son. I wasn't good enough for him._ He got up, intending to pour himself a glass of firewhiskey, then rethought it, knowing it would only lead to him getting pissed, which was _not_ an option.

Harry ran, crying to his dorm room. Luckily, no one was in the Common Room when he entered, letting him go to his bed without anyone noticing his state. He managed to dry his tears and stop gasping before opening the door to his room, so his fellow roommates wouldn't see how he broke down either. Entering the room, he kept his head down, going straight for his bed. Upon seeing him, Ron jumped up and approached him.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed. "How'd you escape the evil bat's clutches?" For the first time, Harry agreed with Ron's term for the man, yet had no energy to talk right now. He ignored him, getting right into bed, still wearing is clothes.

"Mate?" Ron sounded worried, staring at Harry's turned back uneasily.

"I don't want to talk about it, Ron," he replied. All out of tears, Harry let the exhaustion overtake him and he fell asleep.

* * *

Harry spent the next few days pretending everything was alright. He didn't want anyone to know how broken he felt inside. The worst part was that even if he wanted to tell someone, he couldn't. No one was allowed to know about Severus adopting him. _Probably another part of the scam,_ Harry thought bitterly, more than once. In class, he alternated between paying rapt attention; shushing Ron with a gesture at the teacher when he attempted to talk to him, and spacing out; staring at a blank stretch of wall for the duration of the class.

Though, Severus continued playing the part of strict Potions Master, Harry simply ignored him and his comments, and his classwork was worse than it'd ever been. It was like he was insulting the man further by showing no interest in his subject. After Harry's inattention almost caused two explosions, Severus began adding detentions to his point deductions, detentions he knew Harry had no plans on attending. He made no moves to reach out to the boy, certain it would only do further harm.

Harry's friends noticed something was wrong with him, yet didn't know how to help him. Every time they approached him, he pretending he was fine, chalking up his behavior to worrying about Black being after him. This didn't have them very convinced, however, after a week passed, he did manage to pull himself together enough to show them whatever had been bothering him had passed. He spent a lot of time wandering the grounds, or just sitting in a secluded corner of the library for hours, usually in the time he was supposed to be in detention with Snape, to avoid suspicion.

The only one he found solace with, was Hagrid. Hagrid, who didn't care what was going on with him and invited him to tea as usual. Hagrid, his first real friend, and the one who always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

* * *

One day, sitting on a rock by the lake, Harry heard footsteps behind him, but ignored them until a familiar voice, said,

"I've noticed your behavior the past few days, and I can't help thinking it's my fault." Harry made no movement indicating he was listening, yet stayed where he was. Lupin took this as a sign he could continue talking. "I don't think I was fair to you that day in my office." When further silence followed, Remus assumed he was allowed to continue talking. "You deserved to hear about your father, but I should have approached the subject more delicately. I also probably should've assumed more responsibility over what happened. I was close with your father; I should've said something to him, should have stood up to him. It was wrong and I think, in failing this, I have hurt you." Harry surreptitiously wiped his cheek under his eye. Remus pretended not to notice. He put a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing slightly in reassurance.

"But Harry, your father was not all bad. You need to believe that. He deserves more than your disdain. I was there when you were born, Harry. Your father had never looked so happy. He loved you more than life itself, this you already know. Whatever he did in his youth, he tried to fix. I think being your father made him a better person. One you should be proud of. I'm sure if he was here now, he'd tell you how sorry he was of how he'd acted. Your father was a hero; I hope you know that, Harry."

Without waiting for a response, Remus patted Harry one more time and walked off. For a moment, Harry was still, then, all at once, he broke down. Bringing his legs up to his chest, he cried, tears falling onto his knees.

Remus's words echoed in his head, yet it wasn't James Potter he associated with them. Everything he'd said was true, also about James, but what Harry heard was this: Severus loves you. Being your father made him a better person. Severus tried to fix his mistakes; he's sorry for what he's done. A part of Harry didn't want to believe it – having no one was so much easier than risking losing someone – he preferred to continue believing Severus never loved him, that he was only playing him. The other part of Harry burned with such desire to hug his father and never let go, that he felt he would burst. Nothing had ever felt as good as feeling safe in his father's arms. Something he had missed out on his entire childhood.

 _He won't take me back,_ Harry thought, in a flash of terror. _I told him I hated him. How can he ever forgive me?_ The tears threatened to return, but Harry pushed them back. Determined to think this through logically, Harry calmed his mind and sat straight on the rock he was perched on. He'd been Severus Snape's son for more than a year; he'd learnt more than what was just taught in classes.

Using the techniques his father had taught him to pay close attention to detail, Harry ran through his memories of potions classes from the past week. Of course, Severus had presented his "bat of the dungeons" persona as per usual, but the more Harry looked, the more he found glimpses of the man's real emotions. Flashes of pain showed up in his eyes, time and time again, each time when he was looking at Harry. Sighing out in quiet relief, Harry opened his eyes.

Now, all he had to do was find the courage to go to him and apologize, hoping he wasn't immediately kicked out for showing his face. _I haven't gone to my detentions!_ Harry convinced himself to calm down. _If he hasn't punished me yet, he won't now. Besides, he promised never to throw you out, remember?_ Harry took a deep breath and quickened his pace.

In front of the door to Severus's quarters, Harry paused. _Come on, Harry. Use that Gryffindor courage._ _He won't kick me out, he won't kick me out,_ Harry repeated to himself in his head, as he lifted his fist and knocked on the door. He still had the password to the rooms, but didn't want to take the chance Severus had changed it.

It seemed he waited an eternity before the door opened and he looked up to meet his father's eyes.

"Can I come in?" he asked, meekly. Severus nodded, face impassive and stepped aside to allow him entrance.

"Would you like something to eat? I noticed you haven't been eating much at meals lately."

Keeping his eyes on the floor this time, Harry nodded. Severus stepped into the kitchen, glad to get away from the awkward tension surrounding the boy. He really did look unwell. _This is why you're unfit to care for him,_ Severus scolded himself. He quickly fixed something for Harry to eat and returned to the living room.

Harry sat on the couch, waiting for his dad to come back. It was strange, just being in this room again made him feel safe. Maybe it was the familiar setting, or the hominess of the room. Maybe it was the particular scent of the quarters, or just the knowledge that his father was here and nothing could hurt him. Suddenly, all he wished for was to feel the safety only his father could provide for him. Hearing the footsteps of the man reentering the room, he waited until a plate was set down in front of him, before throwing himself into his father's arms.

Shocked, Severus almost fell over, but steadied himself with a hand on the back of the couch. He held his son close, rubbing small circles on his back with one hand, cupping the back of his head with the other, letting him get all the tears out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Harry cried. "I didn't mean it! I don't hate you!"

"Shh," Severus soothed him. "I know. It's alright."

Harry continued apologizing and Severus continued to reassure him that everything was ok. _He still wants me, he still wants me,_ Severus thought, ecstatically. He'd been so worried he'd lost him forever. It was such a relief that Harry had come back to him, that he'd forgiven him, though Severus couldn't fathom how.

When Harry finally calmed, Severus drew away to look him in the eye, and said,

"Harry, I'm enormously thrilled that you're back, but this doesn't change what I did. What you said before was true. It was my fault."

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, Dad; I was wrong. I shouldn't have said those things. I was just…I was just shocked by it. What happened wasn't your fault, you just made a mistake."

"Harry, you lost your _parents_ because of me."

"And what are you, Dad? Whether or not you were responsible for their deaths, you also gave me a father again. I think that pretty much makes things even, don't you?"

"Harry—"

"Dad, it's like you said before. I finally realized you were right; what James did when he was younger is no example of the person he was at his core, or the man he tried so hard to be. It's the same with you. I understand feeling small and alone, I don't blame you for what happened."

Severus saw the sincerity in Harry's eyes and was astounded. _The boy really means what he's saying. He really forgives me. He must be mad,_ Severus thought, wryly. _At least he doesn't hate James anymore._ Severus wished he had the strength to argue further, try to convince Harry he was making a mistake in forgiving Severus, yet the lure of Harry accepting him again was too strong. _How can I reject his desire to be my son?_ Giving in to his emotions, Severus simply nodded in response to Harry, saying, to get rid of the sentimental atmosphere,

"Do you think we can get to a Patronus lesson now? I seem to recall you missing a few."

Harry snickered a little and nodded, excited to get back to happier things. Already, having his father back had a huge impact on him and he felt ready to cast a real, fully-fledged Patronus this time.

Before he could lift his wand, though, Severus put a hand on his son's arm.

"Harry, wait." Looking up curiously, he waited for the man to continue. "I know you forgive me, but do you trust me? Do you trust me really, with your life, your protection and all you give me to hold dear?"

The answer came to Harry as easily as flying. "Of course, Dad. I trust you more than anyone." Nodding, in response, and keeping the satisfaction of such an answer to himself, Severus motioned for him to continue.

Taking a stance in front of Severus, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. He tried to find a happy memory, something particularly strong, but couldn't focus on a single one. In the end, all he could think of was his father gazing at him proudly. The feeling this image produced lit up a fire in Harry that spread throughout his entire body, warming him to the tips of his toes. Then, suddenly, behind this image came another one. So faint he could barely make it out, yet he knew it was there. A memory from the deepest recesses of his mind of a face very much like his, with hair as unruly, gazing down at him with a brilliant smile. _Dad,_ he thought silently.

With eyes brimming with tears, Harry smiled and lifted his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes. This time, not just a white light came forth from his wand, but a fully formed, shining creature. Some kind of animal, it skipped away, turned at the wall and came back to Harry more slowly.

It was a fawn. A shimmering baby deer with wide eyes and an upturned nose. Harry smiled and petted it lightly with his hand, enjoying the tingling sensation it gave him. A soft gasp from behind him made him turn.

Severus stared at the fawn with awe in his eyes. Eyes that, to Harry's surprise looked suspiciously wet. If anything would've shown him how much his son trusted and believed in him, this was it.

"What is it, Dad?" Harry asked. He'd expected admiration, or at least some recognition of the feat he'd accomplished.

In lieu of answering, Severus whipped out his own wand and pronounced,

"Expecto Patronum." Out of his wand stepped an animal quite like the one spawned from Harry's wand. The doe approached the fawn slowly, bending down to rub noses with it.

"Oh," said Harry, simply. With the feeling of his heart so full it would explode, he laughed and gave his father a quick squeeze around the waist. Severus kept his arm around the shoulder of his son even after he let go.

"Well done, Harry," he said softly. Harry smiled so wide he felt his face would break. This was all he needed to feel happy.


	4. Fourth Year

Harry portkeyed right in the middle of the quidditch field, in the view of the entire crowd, Cedric clutched in his arms. The first person to recover from their shock was Severus, who, of course, stayed where he was – though every nerve in his body screamed for him to go to the boy – and waited until Albus approached the boy and gestured for him to come.

Under the pretense of following the headmaster' orders, Severus rushed to see his son. With Albus's body blocking the view of the crowd, Severus was able to wrap his arms around his son, who was clearly in shock.

"He's back, he's back, he's back." He kept muttering this, as he recognized his father's presence and clutched his robes tightly in his fists. Severus frowned, trying to decipher the meaning of the words, as well as whom Harry was talking about. As for his other student, it took only one look to see that the boy was dead. Obviously the Killing Curse. Severus's heart clenched and he winced at the prospect of having to be the one to tell his father. Having his own son he feared to lose, and had almost done so on more than one occasion, helped him sympathize with this boy's family.

Indeed, it didn't take long for Amos Diggory to come rushing forward, and fall to the ground next to his son's still form. Severus took this as his cue to leave. Albus fixed him a look, as he prepared to tend to Amos. Take Harry to my office, it said. Severus nodded and swiftly lifted Harry into his arms, and carried him off the pitch, for once not caring what people would think. As he walked, Harry shifted, obviously uncomfortable, and wanting to return for reasons Severus could not discern in the boy's agitated state. With a few well-placed words in his ear, he calmed the boy down enough to get him up to the castle and the headmaster's office, where he was placed on a transfigured couch, made by Severus.

After Barty Crouch Jr. had been dealt with and taken away, Harry seemed to finally get over the shock that'd filled him, and brought his knees up to his chest, his legs joining him on the couch, and he rocked back and forth, obviously trying to comfort himself. Severus sighed and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around the shoulders of the boy, drawing him close. Strangely, the boy's body continued to tremble, though the shock seemed to have worn off. It took a few minutes for Severus to recognize the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Swearing silently, Severus summoned the necessary potions from his chambers.

 _I should have noticed it sooner,_ he chided himself, administering the potions to Harry. However, it'd been so long since he'd seen the symptoms and never in his dreams had he thought Harry had gone through _that_. Inside, he seethed at whoever had caused this pain to his son. They would _pay_. A few minutes after the last of the after effects faded away Severus determined Harry to be in a well enough state to allow Severus to heal the rest of his injuries. Drawing away from the embrace, he gently outstretched Harry's arm to examine it, and then put a finger under the boy's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Will you let me heal that?" He gestured at the bloody arm. Harry nodded wordlessly; he hadn't spoken since Dumbledore had left the room. Carefully, trying not to cause him pain, Severus ran his wand over the gash, healing the wound. With another wave of his wand, the other cuts and bruises were gone, too. He then cleaned all the blood from the boy's skin and clothes, as well as his own.

As he worked, he heard,

"Dad." Harry's voice was barely above a whisper. "Dad, he's back." Severus had finally figured out what he'd meant and his blood began to run cold at the reminder. "Dad, he-." Harry said again.

"I know," the older wizard interrupted, "I felt the call." He could not look Harry in the eye. One look, and he feared what would happen, he could not bear to think of what had happened, what _could_ have happened.

Harry looked up at him, terror on his face. "So you…"

Severus finally lifted his head from his careful ministrations to his son's injuries, and Harry's eyes widened. The Potions Master had always looked young to him. He was the youngest of the staff at Hogwarts, the same age as his parents, yet now, he just looked old. Harry knew then how serious the situation was if it could cause that look to be on his father's face.

Sensing Harry's unease, as he always could, Severus declared, "I don't want you thinking about this right now. You need to rest. I'll take you to the Hospital Wing." He moved to pick Harry up again, but the boy stood instead, wanting to walk. Severus relented, holding him up with an arm behind his back.

They left Dumbledore's office, but before they could get far, Harry said,

"Don't take me to the Hospital Wing; take me to the dungeons, Dad."

"Harry…"

"I don't want to dream tonight. Let me sleep in my room. Please Dad." Harry seemed close to breaking down, which Severus was doing his best to avoid. Besides, he had no real desire to argue with the boy.

"Calm yourself, child. You will be perfectly safe tonight."

Harry sighed in relief when they turned to go down to the dungeons. He let himself be led to his room, and was too tired and weary to protest when Severus transfigured his clothes into pajamas, and tucked him into bed. Downing a Dreamless Sleep potion, he made himself comfortable under the covers and immediately fell asleep under his father's watchful eye.

Severus stayed a moment to run his hand through his son's hair, pleased to see him sleeping soundly, then returned to the headmaster's office. His heart finally calmed its frantic beating now that he was sure Harry was safe and sleeping behind warded doors and he prepared himself to face the coming conversation.

Albus was already in the office when he arrived.

"The minister has had some trouble believing the truth," he said, not looking up from some parchment he was perusing.

Severus snorted. "The minister is an idiot. I should care less about what he thinks."

"Alas, this might cause some trouble for us yet."

Severus folded his arms. "Enough stalling, Albus. Let us discuss what I'm really here for."

Albus looked up, and clasped his hands together. "Very well. Lemon sherbet?" he offered. Severus ignored him and simply took a seat.

"Is Harry well? I can inform Poppy if—" It wasn't the line of topic Severus was expecting, but he thought the man deserved to know.

"There is no need, Albus," he interrupted, "the boy is sleeping soundly in the dungeons, where he will remain for the rest of the night."

"Severus, don't you think—"

"No. He needs his rest. You may not question him tonight. If he so allows you, you may hear his tale tomorrow."

The headmaster nodded his head. "Whatever you deem best, Severus."

 _Yes,_ he thought, _whatever_ I _deem best._ A silence then followed and Severus fixed the headmaster with a wary eye. It was coming; he knew it.

"Severus, I know I have no right to ask this of you—"

"No you do not." Severus frowned; so they had arrived. "You have no right, Albus. You are fortunate I don't just take the boy and leave." He paused to let that sink in. "Do not fret, however. I will be a part of this foolish suicide mission of yours; you will have your spy once more." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But know that it is not for you, only for Harry, and at any point, I will be allowed to cease playing my role and take the boy where I see fit."

Albus tented his fingers and held the Potion's Master gaze a long while. "That is only fair, Severus."

Satisfied with Dumbledore's acquiescence, Severus bowed his head curtly and stood to leave. He quickly returned to his quarters in the dungeons, to keep watch over Harry as he slept. Silently entering the room, he approached the boy and sat in a conjured chair by the bed. Reaching forward, he brushed a few strands of hair off his son's forehead.

"I'm sorry for what you've gone through, Harry." The boy sighed in his sleep, turning into his father's touch. Severus kept the contact a little longer, before leaving the room to sit in an armchair by the fire. He would get no sleep tonight, he knew. Dreamless Sleep or not, he would keep watch to make sure nothing disturbed the boy. He was unavailable for the night. If someone needed him, they would have to go find someone else; now, he was only here for his son.

Another reason he would not sleep was it would not be long before he was called to his "master's" side and he needed time to formulate his response as to why he had not come when summoned. Furthermore, it had been thirteen years since he had played this role, and Severus forced himself to return to darker times and remember how exactly he'd managed to fool Voldemort. This process was painful, and had it not been for Harry, he doubted he would have attempted it. Yet, that boy caused his decisions in life to be not his own and he would go to any lengths to protect him.

The next day, after breakfast, Severus waited for the boy to approach him. At ten to nine, Harry voiced quietly,  
"Dad, don't you want to hear…"

Shaking his head, Severus replied, folding the newspaper he'd been skimming, "No. I will take you to the headmaster's office, where if you are able, you will share with him the events of yesterday. If that is not acceptable, I will help you empty your memories in a Pensieve instead, so the headmaster can view them."

"No, I can talk about it."

Severus nodded in acknowledgement. "Very well; let us go."

Harry followed his father to Dumbledore's office, going up the moving staircase and knocking on the wooden doors. Once inside, Harry sat down in the chair in front of the desk, and looked down at his hands in his lap, feeling slightly uncomfortable. The headmaster sat behind the desk, his hands clasped in front of him, a sympathetic look on his face.

Over the years, Harry had doubted how much the man actually cared about him personally, and eventually, he'd come to realize his circumstance disallowed him to be treated normally, and he would accept the level of care and use he received and gave the headmaster, respectively.

Thinking about the upcoming conversation, he somewhat wished his father would be there to comfort him, despite knowing better than to ask him to stay. He didn't fault him for not wanting to hear the horrors Harry had gone through. It would be better to let someone less protective of Harry bear that burden.

Severus noticed the boy's discomfort, and it pained him, but changed nothing. Mentally sighing, he nodded and said, "I will take my leave. Harry, if you wish to see me after this, I will be in our quarters. If not, you may return to your dorm." He turned to leave, but a voice stopped him.

"Dad…"

He turned back. "Do not ask me to stay, Harry." He did not plead, nor was it an order, yet Harry understood, seeing the emotion in his eyes.

The young wizard shook his head. "I won't. I just wanted to say thank you."

Severus's heart warmed. He reached out to ruffle the boy's hair a little. "You have nothing to thank me for, child." He turned to the headmaster. "Albus." The man nodded, and Severus left the office.

Walking back to the dungeons, his mind ran through possibilities of his son's tale. If how he had come back the night of the third task was any indication, he surely had been through some form of torture at least. That was enough to make Severus's blood boil. Forcing himself to stop imagining horrible scenarios, he strove to calm himself enough to avoid rushing to the demon that had caused pain to his son, and make him pay. Not even the thought of Harry losing him, which was what would be sure to happen, would be enough to stop him trying. Last night, Harry's safety and health had come first, allowing Severus's anger to diminish enough as time passed and he regained control over his emotions. Tonight, he knew he would leave and once again begin his role of spy and informant, in the guise of the Death Eater robes he detested so much. If the danger were not so great, if the threat of Voldemort returned did not shake him so, he would not do this. It was the thought of Harry in danger and what he could do to protect him that drove him to take this course of action, even if he was put in harm's way. It pained him that Harry risked another parent, but this was war. He'd be in danger either way.

That's why he'd prefer to take the boy and hide, but he feared no place would be far enough. Let alone the fact that Harry would not allow it, his heroic tendencies too strong to leave the fight. _Foolish Gryffindor_ , he thought, though the remark was tainted with fondness.

Reaching his quarters, he realized he should have told the boy to come, since he didn't fancy walking the whole way to Gryffindor Tower. He needn't have worried, though, for not fifteen minutes later, he heard the door open and then quiet as Harry lingered in the entranceway.

"Stop loitering in the hallway and come here," Severus ordered softly from his position on the couch in the living room. Harry complied, coming to sit next to him. Sitting quite close to each other, Severus reached out, and very slowly brought his arm around the boy, drawing him in and fitting him against his side.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, confused. He wasn't unfamiliar with this sort of comfort from his father; it was just rare as of late, unlike the first year and a half when he'd been starved for comfort – physical and otherwise – and had received a hug from Severus more frequently. Yet it had been some time now, and Severus being less than emotionally demonstrative, he was surprised at the contact.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I assumed that after your ordeal, and having to relive it again for the headmaster, some comfort was in order."

"Oh," Harry replied, smiling slightly. He loved how attentive Severus was – especially for someone who didn't think he was a good enough father – and it did indeed feel very good. He hadn't realized how freaked out he should be yet, and this small comfort let some of the tension he felt dissipate, making it easier to breathe. He snuggled closer to his father, sinking into his chest.

What Severus didn't say was that the comfort was also to help with what was coming next. He was still trying to find the right words to start with, when Harry said softly,

"I saw my parents."

The shock of his statement made Severus freeze, all words dying before reaching his mouth. "How?" he finally managed to ask. Harry began telling of the duel between him and Voldemort and what had happened with their wands. When Harry spoke of the figures of those he'd recently killed appearing, Severus stiffened. Lily's broken body came to mind and her son, safe in his arms, was the only thing that grounded him. Harry, sensing his father's discomfort, squeezed his waist and put his head on his shoulder.

"They said they were proud of me." He paused and looked up at Severus. "And…they were happy you are my father."

Severus looked at him, his eyes mysteriously shiny, shock and disbelief filling the dark orbs. Harry just smiled at him, putting his head back on his shoulder. Severus returned the embrace, resting his cheek on the boy's head.

They remained that way for a while, before Severus finally said, "Harry, there is something you must be made aware of." Harry drew away a little to look him in the eye. This was obviously going to be very important. "You know of my role in the previous war, the one I played for Dumbledore." Harry nodded, wondering where this was going. "Now the Dark Lord has risen again, and it is imperative that we use all of our resources and everything at our disposal to get rid of this threat and end the war as quickly as possible. We all have our responsibilities, including me." He waited for Harry to figure the rest out.

"You're going to spy for him again." It wasn't a question, and his words came out in an emotionless tone. The pace of Harry's heart quickened as this settled in.

Severus wanted nothing more than to keep Harry safe in his arms, his wish for this war to be over never stronger. "Yes, Harry," he replied.

"Did Dumbledore ask you?" The voice was cold this time, displaying rising anger.

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry. And no, at least I am not doing this for him. I'm doing this for you. We need all the advantage we can get."

"Let someone else do it, Dad." The anger was clear in Harry's green eyes as he said this, and Severus sighed.

"There is no one else, Harry," he responded gently.

Harry crossed his arms. "Well, I won't let you do this! I won't have someone else die for me; I'm sick of letting other people sacrifice themselves for me, just because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived!"

Severus gently reached out and took his son's hands. "No, you foolish child. My decision to fight in this war is not to help you defeat Voldemort, as Dumbledore may believe, nor is it to repay a debt to your mother, nor for what was done to you as a child. I fight in this war to protect you, I will resume my position next to the Dark Lord so that we can win this war and you will be safe."

Severus could tell his words affected the boy by the way his anger left his posture, which was soon filed with sadness.

"It's just not fair," he whispered. "Why do _you_ have to do this? I've lost so much already…"

Severus heard what he didn't say: I've already lost two parents; now I have to risk another? "Much must be risked in war," he told him, pulling Harry close again. "I'm sorry that it must be this way, but I cannot run away from my responsibility. You understand that, right?"

Harry thought of all the times he'd rushed off to do what he thought was right. The heroic thing, whether he could get hurt or not. He _did_ understand, but, like his father, he wished things could be different.

"You'll be careful?" he asked, leaning into Severus once more. Severus raised an eyebrow at the question.

"Whenever am I not?" Harry was by no means settled, but he did feel optimistic about their chances. With Severus Snape on their side, there was no way they could lose.


	5. Fifth Year

**A/N: I know Harry's personality seems different in each one, but remember, they're all a year apart, and as we saw in the fifth book, Harry was more stressed and easily angered. I've tried to keep things mostly canon, with the exception of things that would come naturally with Severus being Harry's father, for example teaching him to be more Slytherin. The premise of this oneshot is what would happen if Severus was made aware of what Harry's detentions with Umbridge entailed.**

Severus noticed Harry absentmindedly rubbing his hand in class. Hermione, sitting next to him, looked at him with an expression of worry, mixed with mild disapproval, occasionally glancing at Snape's storeroom. Severus' eyes narrowed and he determined to figure out what was going on.

Unfortunately, his busy schedule that day didn't allow him time to speak with Harry until after classes were over. Luckily, he _was_ able to find a way to give Harry detention, informing him he wished to see him in his office at seven o'clock.

Severus's mood slowly worsened over the course of the day as there was an explosion in one of his first year classes, only for him to go to dinner and to be faced with the newest addition to the staff, along with her monstrosity of an outfit. He hated her with a passion usually reserved for the Dark Lord. Her very presence at the table was an insult to not only teaching and the subject she was supposed to be an expert in, but to Hogwarts herself and everything she stood for. Her toad-like features clearly portrayed her inner nature; her simpering smile and the little hums she made causing Severus to want to wring her thick neck. He finished his dinner as quickly as propriety allowed without being impolite and returned to his quarters. Upon opening the door though, he heard sounds coming from his private storeroom and frowned. Not many people had access to his rooms, and even less would go through his potions without his knowledge. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Harry. The question was why, and Severus's thoughts flew to the boy's hand. He was about to call the foolish boy out into the living room, when he walked out on his own, and flopped dejectedly on the couch.

"Don't slouch." Severus ordered, alerting his presence to Harry. The young wizard sighed and raised himself into a proper sitting position. "Now," Severus continued, sitting across from him in an armchair, "would you mind telling me what you were looking for in my storeroom?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I thought I taught you to lie better than that. First, never directly lie against obvious evidence, for instance, the fact that I definitely heard you rummaging around for something in there. Second, don't shift your feet, it shows you're nervous. And lastly, though you should know how to lie, you should never lie to me. You know I can always tell when you're lying to me and it will do you no good. Now, tell me what you were doing."

"Great, Dad." Harry threw up his hands in exasperation and stood up. "Even when you're lecturing me, you're trying to turn me into a better spy."

"I am trying to teach you to _survive_ , you foolish child. And that includes telling me when something is bothering you. Now, sit down and we'll discuss this."

Harry frowned, but sat back down, ignoring his father's previous instruction not to slouch. "Nothing's bothering me."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "So this temper tantrum you are throwing is perfectly normal behavior?"

"I'm not throwing a temper tantrum!" Severus kept silent, a smirk on his face. Harry grumbled. "Fine. But there's nothing wrong."

"No? So you'll have no problem showing me your left hand?"

Harry started, but quickly recovered, shrugging and covering the back of his left hand with his right. Sighing, Severus got up and sat next to him on the couch, holding out his hand. At first, Harry refused to show him, keeping his hand close to him, but after a minute under his father's gaze, he relented and sullenly put his hand in the one held out for him.

 _Finally,_ Severus thought. He snorted mentally. _Yes,_ definitely _not having a temper tantrum._ Taking the hand gingerly, he examined the back and was shocked at what he saw there.

There, in angry red letters, the words _I must not tell lies_ stood out, carved into the hand. Severus's blood began to boil.

"Who did this to you?" he growled. Harry blushed, shifting in his seat. "Boy…" Severus warned.

"It was Umbridge, ok?" Harry pulled back his hand and abruptly stood up. "I didn't mean to get in trouble; I just couldn't let her say those things without doing anything. I wanted to find something to stop the stinging, that's why I went through your stores. You can take away my broom or whatever." Finished with his tirade, he slumped back down on the couch.

There was a lot of disconcerting information in there, but first, there was the hand to deal with. Severus got up and went to his stores himself, coming out with a jar and a flask. He set both on the low table near the couch and asked for the hand again. Taking the cover off the jar, he rubbed some of the ointment on Harry's hand. It felt cool, and soon the stinging was gone.

"Murtlap Essence to stop the stinging, and dittany to prevent scarring." He then poured a few drops from the flask on the cuts and watched them disappear completely. Now, that he'd dealt with that, he prepared for the much more difficult task of trying to figure out what Harry had meant before. If Severus wasn't mistaken – and, when it came to Harry, he rarely was – it seemed as though Harry thought he'd be punished for getting in trouble. However, there was still something that bothered him.

"Harry," he started gently, "how exactly did you get those marks?"

Harry shrugged. "In detention. She made me write lines with this weird quill, and the words appeared on the back of my hand." Severus's eyes flashed in anger. The nerve of that bitch! To use a Blood Quill on a student, and not just any student, his _son_.

"And you thought to tell no one?" he breathed, trying to get a hold of his temper and desire to kill that woman.

Harry shrugged again. "After the fifth detention in two weeks, McGonagall told me to keep my head down, that she had power from the Ministry and I should try not to antagonize her. I didn't want to get in trouble again, so I thought to keep it quiet. Besides, it wasn't that bad, it's not like she hit me or anything."

Severus blanched at his words. _Wasn't that bad?_ His heart crumbled and Severus began cursing himself in his head. Four years. Four years being Harry's father and it still wasn't enough. Harry still didn't completely understand the concept of abuse, or trust him enough to tell him when he was hurt. His anger, quickly switched to focus on the Dursleys, who he hadn't been forced to think of in a while. Still, they affected Harry. Those…monsters! Without them, perhaps Harry would have come to him sooner, told him what was going on. Their punishment had not been enough. Severus wished them to be there right then to show them the true meaning of pain and abuse.

Harry, seeing the anger on his face, began apologizing. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'll do better. I won't complain with what punishment you give me."

Severus was drawn out of his fantasies of torturing the Dursleys by his son's voice, filled with remorse. At first, the boy's words didn't even register; when they did, Severus felt another wave of anger, stronger than the first and only barely managed to clench his fists. The boy still thought he would be punished. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths to calm down, berating himself for almost losing control around Harry – further demonstrating his incompetence as a father – and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Calm down, Harry. You aren't in trouble." Severus was pleased at how stable his voice sounded.

Harry frowned, puzzled. "But I got in trouble, I drew attention to myself. I allowed Umbridge to…" he stopped at the sight of Severus shaking his head at him, dark eyes sad.

"Harry, she had no right to do this to you."

"But I spoke out against her. She gave me detention, I—"

"You misunderstand me, Harry. I do not mean she shouldn't have given you detention, nor that you should let her walk over you. That she is a teacher, or from the ministry, makes no difference. She is not allowed to hurt you this way."

"But, she didn't. It was the quill, whatever…"

"You foolish child!" Severus grasped Harry by both shoulders, so they looked each other in the eye. "Forcing you to hurt yourself with a Blood Quill is _certainly_ abuse. Items such as those are Dark Magic and most definitely illegal. Honestly, boy, did you not think as to why she would have something like that?"

Harry looked down at his hands and tried to work through his father's words. "I didn't know it was illegal. I'm not exactly familiar with objects of Dark Magic. I just didn't think to tell anyone since it didn't seem that serious; I thought I could handle it."

Severus endeavored to keep his breathing steady. "Harry. The problem is not that the quill is illegal. The point is she physically hurt you, causing you to cut your own hand, for a _detention_. If she had used a cane, that would be no different. It's still abuse. Tell me you understand that what she did to you was wrong."

Harry's voice was quiet as he answered. "But she didn't beat me. I did it of my own volition, besides, it's just a cut."

Severus had never had this much trouble reining in his anger before. However, the limit to how those monsters had affected his son's psyche seemed more than he could take. He wanted to make them feel every pain, every terror they'd put Harry through. He turned and rested his arms on his knees for a moment. Harry, of course, once again thought his father was angry with him and tried to apologize.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I—"

Severus whirled around and grasped the boy's shoulders again. "Stop apologizing! You did nothing wrong. It is that _bitch_ that I'm mad at. _Her_ and those monsters you had for relatives. None of them had any right to hurt you."

"But—"

"No, Harry. If I hit you, or broke your bones, or forced you to slave for me, if I didn't give you food, or proper clothes, or locked you in a cupboard, it makes no difference. This is all abuse. This includes making you harm yourself with a quill. Please tell me you understand this."

The pleading in his voice and pain in his eyes caused Harry to try and really think about it, like his father wanted. He could see where his father was coming from, yet it took some time for it to make sense, and Harry could still find reasons as to why it wasn't so bad. But his father wanted him to say yes, so he did.

"I get it, Dad."

"I need you to say it, Harry. I need you to tell me you know she wrongly abused you."

"Umbridge abused me by making me carve words in my own hand with her quill." As Harry said the words, he heard the truth in them. Maybe it was worse than he thought. He imagined Ron being treated this way, or Hermione; that certainly made him feel it was wrong. Though his brain still tried to tell him it was ok, Harry determined to try thinking more like his father wanted him to.

Severus sighed at Harry's confession. "I don't think you do. Not completely, not yet. But we'll get there, I promise you." Harry nodded, warmth filling his chest. He knew whenever his dad promised something, he was sure to keep it. He was sure that whatever his dad wanted him to get to, they would.

"Now, as for how you are to deal with Umbridge, there are other ways of fighting, Harry."

"How?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I think that study group you've got going is one sure way."

Harry blushed. "You know about that."

Severus laughed. Well, it was more of an amused snort, but considering how much the man smiled, much less laughed…

"Harry, the whole staff knows, save the Toad, of course. I'm proud of you, Harry. You had a great idea, and took the initiative to put it in place."

"Really?" His father _never_ told Harry he was proud of him. Of course, he knew it, but it was different hearing it come straight from the man's lips.

"Yes." A small smile turned the corners of Severus's mouth up. "If you like, I can give you a list of spells to teach, if you haven't taught them already, along with some pointers if you need help with anything."

Impulsively, Harry grabbed his father around the waist and held on tight. Surprised, it took some time for Severus to wrap his arms around the boy in return.

"What's this?" he asked.

"I've never had help with this before."

"Ahh." Severus understood now. "You mean, all those other times you'd come up with harebrained schemes to break the rules you did so without adult supervision, and now you finally have that?" he said with a small smirk.

"Mm-hm," Harry mumbled into his father's chest. Severus's smirk grew wider and he lowered his head to softly kiss his son's hair.

"I want you to stay here tonight," he said.

"Ok."

"And you are to tell me if that bitch ever does something like that to you again. You understand? She does have power from the Ministry, like you said, but that doesn't mean she can't get sacked for abuse. We don't know what the consequences of that would be, so for now just try and stay out of her way, and if she hurts you in any way, you come to me, understood?"

"Ok, Dad."

Severus sighed and squeezed Harry once before letting him go. He'd do right by his son yet.


	6. Sixth Year

**A/N: This oneshot is something I've thought about for a while and one of my favorite scenarios. In this, Harry returns from the cave with Dumbledore and they land on the Astronomy Tower. Draco is there, and Dumbledore freezes Harry in place. However, in this story, Severus then shows himself to Harry, kind of like they showed it in the movie, except this time, he stops and explains to Harry his duty and what he promised to do, and Harry has to see it, knowing it was coming and he can't stop it.**

 **P.S. Someone made a comment about the pensieve incident in fifth year and I just wanted to say sorry you won't get that scene. It doesn't really make sense in this world I've created, you might remember Severus was already thinking of teaching Harry Occlumency in Second year. Besides fifth year I really just wanted to write about Umbridge. Since every chapter is a different year, if a scene you wanted didn't appear than I probably won't write it. Feel free to give me suggestions though. Enjoy.**

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Harry stared at Draco with his wand pointed at Dumbledore, helpless to do anything, frozen by the petrificus cast by Dumbledore. Suddenly, some unknown force pulled him to the side, unlocking his body until he hit a hard chest of someone he recognized.

"Dad," he croaked, sagging into the man's embrace. Suddenly remembering the magnitude of the situation, he drew back and exclaimed,

"Malfoy! He's got Dumbledore!"

"Hush, child. That doesn't matter right now."

"Doesn't matter!? But…"

Severus cast a muffliato to obscure the rest of their conversation. "Harry, you must listen to me very carefully. There is something far more important than Albus at stake here."

"More than the Headmaster? Dad, how can you—"

"The headmaster is on the verge of death."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Malfoy's got a wand on him. And unless we stop him—"

"No, Harry. He's been dying since the beginning of the year." He paused. "You never did ask what happened to his hand."

Harry paled. "You mean…?"

"He would not have lasted to the next year."

"Why are you talking like he's already dead?"

Severus sighed inwardly. He didn't want to have this conversation with Harry, but there was no way around it. "For all intent and purposes, he is. The Headmaster will die tonight; by who's hand is the only variable."

"Why? Why does he have to die?"

Severus put his hands on his son's shoulders and forced him to look him in the eye. "Do you trust me?" he asked forcefully.

"Of course, Dad." Harry's nerves were on fire. His heart pounded in his chest faster than it ever had before, and for the first time, Harry felt genuinely afraid. There had been one other time Severus had asked whether Harry trusted him. It was usually mind-bogglingly obvious, even besides for the fact that Severus was his father, yet there had been one time Severus had felt he needed confirmation. Third year, after Harry had found out about Severus's involvement in his parents' death, right before they had cast the Patronus together, his father had turned to him and asked how much trust was given him. There had never been a doubt in Harry's mind that his father worked to protect him and would do so until his last breath. If his dad was asking him this now, there had to be something horrible coming. Something Severus feared would make Harry lose faith in him. With trepidation, Harry waited to hear what his father would tell him.

"Then, I need you to do exactly as I say, with no arguments. Listen carefully, now." Harry nodded to show he was listening and Severus began. "It was the Dark Lord's plan to kill Dumbledore, this you know. As revenge on Lucius, he put Draco in the line of fire, intending him to fail. Yet, the Dark Lord's plan remains. While Draco was not a real strategy, he was given the chance to succeed. If, as is the more expected case, he doesn't, then someone else will take his place. Voldemort _will_ see Dumbledore dead; it is only a matter of by the hand of whom." Harry's senses tingled. This sounded similar to something he had said before. Something about the only difference would be who killed him. If he hadn't trusted his father so completely, Harry would have been enraged. Severus was talking like there was no other option. That Dumbledore had to die, that more: someone had to kill him. Harry knew how close his dad was to the headmaster and how determined he could be; if Severus was saying he had to die, there was no way to save him. _This is what he's telling me now,_ Harry thought. _He's making sure I don't fight it._

"The headmaster is already at Death's door, there is no avoiding that outcome. The only option then, is to use it to our advantage." Severus paused. "Tell me, you understand this." Harry was still trying to process the fact that Dumbledore would die. He had finally accepted it as fact, he knew there was no stopping it, but now, his mind was conjuring up images of a world without the wisest man he knew in it. He forced himself to focus on the present, and his father's words, but the tears stinging the backs of his eyes and throat made it hard to answer. Harry nodded his assent instead.

"Good," Severus continued. "You will not like this next part, but it is necessary, remember that." Harry braced himself. "As I said, the Dark Lord's wishes must be fulfilled. If Draco cannot do it…" Severus waited for Harry to figure it out. It didn't take long; it was pretty clear. There was only one option, and Harry knew what it was.

"You have to." His moist eyes widened in shock at Severus's curt nod. A short silence followed, after which Harry began shaking his head. "No. no. no. You can't. You CAN'T!" He whirled away from his father and paced the narrow hallway, running his hands through his hair, mumbling under his breath. Severus sighed and reached out to calm his son.

"Harry." The boy stopped moving, but didn't look at him. "Harry." Harry spun again, this time clutching Severus's robes tightly in his fists. "You can't, Dad! You just can't!"

"You foolish child!" In any other circumstance, Severus would have grounded Harry for this sort of behavior, not to mention the detentions he'd receive. But not now, not about this. Severus was having a hard enough time dealing with it himself. Even as he reprimanded his son, his voice held none of the usual malice or disapproval; he was simply ensuring Harry calm down and listen. Indeed, Harry stopped his ramblings and let go of his father's robes, his chin dropping onto his chest, like his ever-falling tears. Severus lifted his son's head with a hand on his jaw. "You understand why I must do this. There is no escaping this position. Albus has requested this of me, I must obey his wishes."

"Well, then I HATE him!" Harry exclaimed. "How could he make you do that? Does he not care about you at all?"

While Severus felt touched that Harry would defend him like that, he knew there was no other choice. He had made his peace with this outcome. He'd had to, for Harry's sake. "If there was any other choice, Harry… But it must be done. It is better this way. Draco does not lose his soul and the Dark Lord will have no doubts about my loyalty."

"How is this better!? How is everyone thinking my Dad is a murderer going to help? And what about your own soul? Does Dumbledore care at all about that? I won't let you do this!" Harry folded his arms, glaring at his father. For the moment, the tears stopped as anger took over him.

"Harry James Potter!" Severus scolded his son. "Even if this were not imperative, you could not stop me from doing this. It is my duty as your father to protect you, and I will do that at any cost, even the life of Albus Dumbledore. That aside," Severus grasped his son's arms, looking into his chastised eyes, "I am sure this will help our cause, whether you see it or not. Just as I am needed in my role as a spy, so I am needed in this, to be the murderer of the greatest wizard who ever lived."

"But it's not fair!" Harry cried. "You're only doing this because he asked you to!"

"And hopefully, that will be enough to spare my soul," he tried to assuage his son's fears. "And this will put me in the perfect position to become Headmaster, ensuring the continued safety of all those in a Hogwarts under Voldemort's rule."

Harry began shaking his head. "How can you expect me to return to a Hogwarts like that? I tolerated pretending to resent you, and allowed others to think what they will, but I will not be able to stand them thinking you are a Death Eater, that you're evil, when really, you're the one that's going to save them all."

Harry always knew exactly what to say to make his father smile inside. He'd always known the charade was hard for him, but this declaration warmed Severus to his toes. "You won't be returning, Harry," he responded, sadly.

"What?"

Severus ran his hand gently through his son's hair. It was a gesture that meant a great deal to him and always calmed him. "Albus left me a note. He said he left you a job to finish, and you would be leaving school to do it."

Harry looked down. He knew what Dumbledore meant. There were horcruxes to hunt down and destroy. But…his eyes teared up again as he realized, for the first time, he wouldn't have someone there, looking out for him. "But what if I need you? How will you help me?"

His father didn't answer; instead, simply pulling him close to his chest. Harry wrapped his arms around his dad and cried into his dark robes. He hated this situation, this war. He just wanted this stupid night to end and to wake up in his bed at Spinner's End. He squeezed his father, not sure when the next time they'd see each other after tonight would be.

"I love you, Son." Harry's tears intensified. He rarely heard those words and was sure the fact that he heard them tonight meant hard times were ahead. He didn't want to think about that now, though, and simply replied,

"I love you, Dad."

"You know I'll do anything for you, but what is to come…I will be under severe scrutiny. I will do my best to aid you, but this might end up being something you must accomplish on your own."

Severus held his son until his tears stopped, then pulled away. "It's time. I'm sorry."

Harry straightened himself and said, "It's ok, Dad. I understand."

With that, Severus left to commit the murder of his mentor and the closest thing to a father he'd ever had. Harry would lose them both tonight, and it broke his heart. Not for the first time, he wished this damned war could end, and his son would finally be safe. Harry had debated leaving, but, in the end, he had to stay, and watched his father point his wand at Albus, heard Albus beg, beg for his death and finally, saw his world fall, with the fall of the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen.


	7. Seventh Year

**A/N: This chapter will contain quite a few scenes. In total, I plan on making this fic have nine chapters and each will take place in a different year. Although this chapter is long, I've decided to keep it all together cuz they happen all in the same year. The first scene occurs in the forest of Dean, with the doe Patronus, the second in the Shrieking Shack, and the last the day after the Final Battle. Enjoy.**

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Harry surveyed the dark forest and sighed. Over half a year spent camping and on the run; he was getting tired. They had one horcrux, yes, but they were no closer to finding the others than they were to destroying the one they currently possessed. It had been a long time since Harry had slept in a real bed, or had a proper meal, not to mention the constant watch they had to keep, which was Harry's task at the moment.

However, most of all, he missed his father. The last time he'd seen him had been on that terrible night, the one where his father gave up his freedom and his soul to save the world. He'd spoken to him since then, via the portrait of Phineas Black in Grimmauld Place, but that'd been a long time ago, and he'd been cautioned against contacting his father further. Though an extremely skilled Occlumens, the fewer instances Voldemort could draw from Severus's mind to condemn him the better.

Harry sighed again and rested his head on his arms for a moment. A strange light shining through the trees caused him to snap his head up to determine what he was facing. His breath caught in his chest when the familiar form came into view.

It was a doe. A shining silvery doe, one he recognized. His father's patronus! Jumping to his feet, he followed it through the trees, a spring in his step, his hopes never higher. His father was here! All would be alright now; he was sure of it. The doe continued until it reached a small clearing with a patch of ice in the center, covering a frozen pond. Snow fell lightly all around and a soft wind caressed the trees; the atmosphere was calm and serene. The doe stopped to rest on the surface of the pond, adding to the tranquility of the wintry scene. He stepped past the treeline into a clearing, and glanced around the area, searching for a figure dressed in the tell-tale black robes.

Yet, after looking over the entire area twice, he still could not find Severus, and his hope began to wane, despair taking its place. It had been so long since he'd felt true comfort, and after Godric's Hollow, and his wand being broken, he really felt he needed some guidance.

"Dad?" he called, stepping further into the clearing, hoping his father was just waiting to make sure it was him before emerging.

Silence greeted Harry, broken only by the rustling of the trees and whistling of the wind. Harry forced down his hopelessness. _No, he has to be here._ "Dad?" he called again. "Please, I need to see you. I know you're here, come out."

The only reply he got was the creaking of wood and the sound of night critters moving through the forest. The flurries of white continued to fall and Harry despaired. "Dad," he whispered, falling to his knees in the snow. He cared not about the cold seeping through his clothes or the snow falling steadily on top of him. He could freeze right there on the ground for all he cared. He was cold, and tired, and just wanted to rest. _I need you, Dad. I'm so alone,_ he thought, trying not to cry. He had put everything into hoping his father would be here, on the anticipation of getting to see him, yet he wouldn't come.

Suddenly, strong, warm arms were there, surrounding Harry and lifting him up. He was pressed against a hard, yet comforting chest and pulled close.

The most reassuring voice in the world whispered to him fondly, "Foolish child. Are you trying to freeze yourself to death? I should've known hypothermia would dispatch you rather than a Dark Wizard." Severus chided his son gently.

Secure in his favorite place in the world—his father's arms—Harry let go of the tears he was holding, gripping his father's cloak tightly as he cried into it. He held himself as close to the man as possible, seeking the warmth and comfort he knew lay there. Severus began rubbing Harry's arms and back to warm him, knowing body contact worked better than a spell, before finishing with a Warming Charm, to take away the last bit of chill in his body.

"Dad," Harry whispered.

"You're safe, Harry."

"I missed you."

"Come now, you forget what bad company I am. Are you certain the cold has not addled your brain?"

Harry ignored him, simply taking in the sound of his voice and the continued reassurance of his embrace that warmed his heart more than any spell could manage.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry lifted his head. "Dad, why didn't you just come to me?"

Severus softened at the pain in his voice. "I'm not supposed to be here. I came to make sure you got the sword. Albus said you'd need it."

"The sword?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

Severus nodded to the pond, standing up and walking towards it with Harry by his side. Harry looked down at where the doe—now gone—had been standing, and saw a glint of silver and red stuck fast in the water below. The sword of Godric Gryffindor. Turning back to his father, he asked,

"So why couldn't you just give it to me? And why put it at the bottom of a pond?"

"The sword must be acquired through an act of bravery or valour. I placed it at the bottom of the pond also as a protection, knowing only a Gryffindor with exceeding foolish tendencies would dive into a frozen pond to go after a sword."

Harry smirked, yet something still bothered him. "Why aren't you supposed to be here? You didn't come to see me?"

Severus sighed. "I came to make sure you got the sword properly, it was not my intention to show myself. Had a certain irrational boy not decided the snow was a good place to fall asleep, I would not have come forward at all."

Harry ignored the jest and replied in a pained voice, "You weren't going to let me see you?"

Severus put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Harry, you have no idea the position I am in at Hogwarts. I must constantly be on my guard in reference to my actions and behaviours. Leaving the castle, without instruction to, is dangerous for me as well, not to mention the perils of you camping out here. I am grateful that Miss Granger's warding spells are up to par to deter intruders."

When the hurt did not yet leave Harry's eyes, he continued, "I wanted nothing more than to be there for you, Harry, but I thought it too dangerous. I would do nothing to put you at risk."

Harry's eyes flashed with defiance. "You keep saying that, Dad, but haven't you thought of how it is for me out here?" He threw up his arms and began to pace in front of his father. "I barely know what I'm doing, I don't know if at any point we will be captured, we still haven't destroyed the stupid horcrux, which is only one out of _six_ , Ron left, my wand's gone, I haven't had a proper meal in ages; I just want to go _home_!" With the last word, he flung himself against is father's chest again. It seemed he was never allowed to complain. Whatever happened to him, he was to take it without comment. And for the most part, he had.

He'd tried to save the stone, gone into the Chamber, competed in the Tournament, lost Sirius when trying to save him, and watched Albus Dumbledore die, all without a word of complaint. He could hold it in no longer. Now, feeling as though he'd lost everything, that winning was hopeless, he could do no more than pour his heart out to his father, who had always been the rock in his life, dependable, stable and safe. He could be trusted to make things better.

Indeed, the moment Severus enclosed Harry in his arms, and smoothed small circles on his back, the desperation in Harry fell away, and hope began to crawl up his chest.

"Harry," Severus murmured, "I apologize for not considering your situation. You know I want nothing more than to protect you. I should've seen how you needed me and come to you straight away." His mouth inches away from his son's ear, he whispered softly to him, knowing his smooth voice could give Harry such comfort.

"Indeed when I saw you collapse in the snow, it was more than a desire to save you that drew me forward. Seeing you there, I sought to comfort you and give you something to latch onto. Whether or not this will add to the danger I am in, I do not regret having this meeting. I am certain you will have made it easier for me to play my role, having this to comfort me." Harry exhaled deeply at his father's words, letting them wrap around him like a warm blanket.

When he let go, he saw his father's face go all business like again. "Considering I _am_ here, it seems foolish to make you go after the sword when I could just give it to you."

"What about the bravery part?"

"Let's just count you following a Patronus into the forest in the middle of the night, and then almost falling asleep in the snow enough foolishness for the sword to accept you." Harry smirked. Waving his wand, Severus released the sword and accioed it to his hand. "Here." He held it out to Harry.

"Stop!" A voice pierced the silence of the snowy wood, followed by the emergence of a figure from between the trees.

"Ron?" Harry asked, bewildered, once his friend was close enough to be identified.

"Get away from him, Harry!" He brandished his wand at Snape, an expression of fury on his face. "He's going to kill you!"

"No, he isn't," Harry responded calmly.

"Harry, he's got the sword, he's going to hurt you."

Harry stepped forward, his hands out in front of him. "Ron, you don't understand—"

Ron didn't lower his wand, still glowering at Snape. "He-he killed Dumbledore!"

"He's my dad." Harry retorted, crossing his arms. That, predictably, stopped Ron short. "Yeah, you heard me correctly," Harry continued, "he's my father. Now, would you lower your wand before someone gets hurt?"

Ron blanched. He began advancing again, his glare intensifying. "What have you done to him?" he demanded, addressing the Potion's Master.

Severus, who'd been standing beside Harry watching silently, raised an eyebrow. " _Done_ to him? I have adopted him. Though, more recently, not much, which is not surprising considering the duties keeping me busy at Hogwarts."

"You mean duties like torturing young students?"

Severus's eyes flashed. "No, you simpleton. Duties like making sure the Death Eaters that bastard of a Dark Wizard hired don't burn down the school, and keeping the students as safe from their influence and…discipline" – he scoffed – "as possible."

Harry looked at his father, worry in his eyes. "Is it really that bad?"

Severus shook his head. "It is worse. I am trying the best I can, but I fear for the students I have failed to shield, as well as those who are still in danger. I assume you have heard what Miss Lovegood, Mr. Longbottom and your Miss Weasley attempted to accomplish at the beginning of the year?" Harry nodded, smiling widely. "Well, it should further please you to hear that Dumbledore's Army has been revived – with those particular students at its head – and they are certainly making the lives of the Death Eaters miserable."

Harry outright laughed at that, feeling his spirits rise considerably. "Really?"

Severus smirked. "Yes, it certainly makes me feel better to hear the Carrows grumble about the graffiti and other pranks they have to deal with. I only wish I could show them my approval. Especially Mr. Longbottom; he certainly has proven his placement in Gryffindor House as very appropriate."

Harry's smile widened further, spontaneously grasping his father's midsection for a quick hug in his excitement. To hear praise like that from his father was rare. It further spoke of how difficult life was at Hogwarts, and his jubilant expression faded slightly. This made his job harder; he was suddenly filled with a desire to find all the horcruxes and get rid of them as quickly as possible.

Ron had been staring at them over the course of the conversation, growing more confused by the minute. However, one thing was clear to him. Albus Dumbledore's killer was standing right there and Harry was in some sort of danger. With all the hatred he could muster, he lifted his wand and exclaimed,

"Cruci—"

"No!" "Expelliarmus!" Two shouts interrupted him. The second was Severus disarming Ron and catching his wand, while the first was made by Harry as he threw himself in front of Severus, glaring at his friend.

"How dare you?" he demanded, absolutely livid. He advanced on his friend and punched him in the face, the unexpected blow knocking him to the ground. Harry stood over him, fists clenched, breathing hard. He was sick of people hating his father for no reason. He tolerated it when he was simply the Bat of the dungeons, feared Potion Master, even the Greasy Git. However, trying to torture him? Use an Unforgivable on him? When everything he did was to save the sorry asses of everyone in the Wizarding World? Not a chance.

"I've already lost two parents. You really want me to lose another?" Harry confronted Ron. "It wasn't enough that you abandoned us, you to have to try and hurt the person who cares most about me in the world?" Severus caught his hand before he could punch him again.

"Leave him, Harry."

"He tried to Crucio you!"

"The idiot" – Ron bristled on the ground, glaring up at him – "is confused. As you can see, he failed, and the chances of him actually succeeding are virtually nonexistent."

"He still tried."

"Harry, to him, I am the Dark Lord's right hand man, the man who murdered the greatest wizard in centuries. While I don't disagree that he should be made to pay for his rashness, do not kill him for his ignorance."

From his position on the ground, Ron demanded, "Why? So you can kill me yourself?"

"You really _are_ that much of a dunderhead, aren't you? Have you not been paying attention at all to what has been happening here? Even with that thick Gryffindor skull of yours, it should be obvious to you I plan on doing no such thing, seeing as how long I've been here, with the Sword of Gryffindor and all, without having moved once against you or Harry." Ron had the grace to look a little bashful, looking away from Severus. "Furthermore, I have no actual desire to kill you, contrary to what you believe of my nature."

"Yeah, why's that?" Ron seemed to have found his anger once again.

Severus was just glad Harry was not like other Gryffindors in that regard, keeping his emotions mostly under his control, rather than swaying back and forth randomly as Ronald Weasley so obviously did. No doubt a result of Severus's careful teachings to the boy, raising him to act appropriately Slytherin when the situation demanded it.

"Because," he intoned, in response to Weasley's query, "though I loathe to admit it, it seems you may be of some use to my son in his quest and he needs all the help he can get." Ron was still trying to get over the fact that the world was still standing after Severus referring to Harry as "his _son_ " but that paled in comparison to what sounded like a compliment coming from the dour man. "That was why Albus bequeathed his deluminator to you, is it not? So you could return to him?"

"How do you…?"

"Because I was also included in the will. The original will that is, not that copy the Ministry got its hands on. However that is not of import at the moment."

Ron finally felt he was getting a better grasp of things. His time on his own, after having left, along with the manner of his return, not to mention being punched by his best friend gave him pause to think. Going through the past few minutes carefully in his mind, he sorted out the situation as best he could. Some things still didn't make sense, but here were the things he felt sure about.

Snape, while not necessarily good, did not want to hurt them, and certainly seemed to be fond of Harry. He was here to help them on their quest, bringing Harry the sword, and definitely knew more about Dumbledore and his plans than Ron did. That seemed to convince him more than anything else. Dumbledore had always spoken of how implicitly he trusted Snape and though a little barmy, he was rarely wrong. It certainly seemed doubtful he would have put that much faith in someone without good reason. Ron had even heard what seemed like shame in Snape's voice when he spoke the old wizard's name. Perhaps he felt bad for causing the man's demise? After what he'd seen tonight, it didn't even seem that far-fetched anymore. That was strange. Snape feeling remorse. Not less strange than liking Harry, he reminded himself. Determined to solve part of this problem, he slowly pushed himself to his feet, locking eyes with Snape – and staying wary of Harry – the whole time to show he meant no harm.

"Alright, I'm willing to listen." Snape raised an eyebrow, clearly not having expected that.

Harry relaxed, glad for the change in Ron's attitude. He crossed his arms though and stated. "Fine, though you're not off the hook. Not for leaving, nor for what you tried to do to my dad."

Ron hung at his head at what he'd almost done. "Yeah," he said simply.

Harry looked at Severus incredulously, clearly surprised as well. His dad nodded at him encouragingly.

Harry took a deep breath and started. "What's your first question?"

Ron raised his head, grateful for the neutral tone and the opening. "How did…this," he gestured at Harry and Severus erratically, "happen?"

"The Dursley's were never good guardians for me. They hated me and locked me away in a cupboard When Professor Snape found out, he made different arrangements for me, eventually adopting me at the end of first year."

"First year!?" Ron's eyes practically bugged out of his head. He'd automatically assumed this had been a relatively recent occurrence. " _That_ long ago?"

Harry shrugged. "For safety reasons, it had to be kept secret. Don't imagine I liked hiding it from you, Ron, though the joy I felt at finally getting a parent pushed everything else to the side."

While considerably surprised, Ron wasn't actually mad about it, though thinking back over the years, it _did_ explain a few things. Fine, that was one question answered. On to the rest.

"What's the deal with Dumbledore?"

Harry looked down. He hated talking about this. Of course, it was necessary, though. "Professor Dumbledore was dying since the beginning of sixth year. Some kind of curse he'd been afflicted with. Since Volde—You-Know-Who was planning on getting on rid of him anyway; the only thing was to use the situation to our advantage. With his death imminent, Hogwarts needed to be defended and Dad would need to be in position to do that. He needed to secure his loyalty with the Death Eaters, as well as save Malfoy, who'd been dragged into this by You-Know-Who ordering him to kill Dumbledore. The only way to do this was to…to…" Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. He kept seeing that awful night in his mind's eye; his dad standing on the Astronomy Tower, wand pointed at Dumbledore, Dumbledore falling over the railing. A firm grip on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He shook his head and forced himself to continue. "The only solution was for Dad to kill Dumbledore."

Ron thought over all he'd heard. It certainly seemed suspicious, for all the sense it made. He couldn't help asking, "How can you be so sure you can trust him though?"

Harry threw up his arms up in exasperation. "Ugh! Can you stop being so thick? He's been my dad for six years, Ron. _Six years_! I know it seems hard to believe, considering how hard it would to cover up, but it's true. I would've told you if I could, in a heartbeat. You think I _liked_ everyone hating my dad, thinking he was a vampire or a Dark Wizard, or whatever, when all he's done is love and care for me? I have dealt with so much shit from everyone over the years and I'm sick of it. No one else has _any_ idea of the things my dad has done to keep them safe. And does he ask for recognition for that? No. Instead, he's hated and mistrusted by everybody. Most of the time, I had to act like I hated my own _father_ ; and him, me. You grew up with a large, happy family. I only had my dad, and I didn't even always have that. So don't you dare go questioning him or his loyalties, and don't you _dare_ try and hurt him, because he has done more for me than anyone else and I will no longer allow people to hate him unjustly. I'm done not letting what other people say about him bother me. He's my dad, and he's a hero."

Silence followed his tirade, broken by a sardonic drawl.

"That was quite the tirade." Severus was glad for the night, and cold that his slight blush. It warmed his heart immensely when Harry spoke of him like that. "Wouldn't you agree, Miss Granger?"

Hermione stepped forward out of the trees, her brown eyes cold. The noise had woken her some time ago, and after searching for Harry in the camp, she followed the faint footprints left by Harry before they were completely covered by the snow, after reinforcing the wards (just in case), and reaching the clearing.

At seeing her, Ron immediately perked up. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. "You have no idea what you just missed. You won't believe—"

"Yes, while it would certainly seem fascinating to a small mind like yours, Ronald, I suggest you start worrying more about yourself."

Ron blanched at the look on her face and swallowed nervously. "Hermione… you know I didn't really mean it. I'm really sorry. I—"

"You left us, Ronald!" She stalked towards him. Ron barely had time to put his hands up before he was assaulted again, once more collapsing onto the snowy ground. It didn't seem like this night was going well for him at all. "You'll have to do more than that to apologize. I still haven't decided if I'm letting you stay, but if you do, you better not leave ever again!" Hermione ordered, poised over him, ready to strike again if necessary.

Apparently though, Ron had learned his lesson from this first time this happened tonight and lowered his eyes. "I really am sorry." A thought flashed through his head, and before he could rethink it, he added with a slight smirk, "I promise to never again dishonor your Greatness, or anger you, My Lady. Your beauty is only surpassed by your intelligence and I beg for your immeasurable mercy."

Hermione huffed and stomped away from him, though he caught sight of the tiny smile she tried to hide and grinned proudly.

Harry shook his head and reached to help his friend up. "One day you're going to dig yourself in too deep with that witch."

Ron's grin widened. "Nah, I just have to remind her that she actually likes when I'm around."

"Go after her." Ron nodded and hurried to obey his friend. Crisis averted, Harry turned back to his father. "I'm guessing you have to leave now," he said reluctantly.

"Yes," Severus confirmed.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable again, Harry reached for the security of his father's arms, trying to force back the tears. He just managed not to blurt out "don't go."

However, as he always had, his father seemed to read his thoughts anyway.

"I'll be sure to check on you again soon. It was a mistake to distance myself from you until now. I will be keeping a closer eye on you from now on," he said when Harry pulled away.

"And if I need to see you again?"

Severus sighed. "I will try, but Harry, you must realize it would be extremely difficult. I have many things that require my close attention right now, not to mention the scrutiny I am under, despite my position. However, anything you want to say to me you can pass on through Phineas, and now that your friends know as well, it will certainly be easier."

Harry looked at the ground. "I understand. I just…I miss you."

"Harry…" Harry leaned his head on his father's chest in fatigue. Severus's arms snaked around his back to complete the embrace. Whispering into his son's hair, he said, "I'm so proud of you."

Harry smiled, the comment immensely delighting him. His hard-to-please, demanding father was proud of him; nothing could take away the peace that gave him.

Finally, he pulled away and took a deep breath. Severus looked him deep in the eyes and ordered, "Be safe." With a crack, he disapparated, leaving Harry to go after his friends to make sure they hadn't killed each other, or worse, were busy snogging their brains out.

* * *

Harry sat up, the vision of Voldemort and Lucius fading and, returning to the world around him, seeing the worried looks on Ron and Hermione's faces instead.

"He's calling for him," he stated, in a partial state of shock. "He wants my father in the Shrieking Shack." Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance before looking back at him.

"Harry, don't you think—"

"You don't understand," Harry interrupted Hermione, "He's my _father_. We're going after him."

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Harry. We understand." Nodding, Harry led the way to the Whomping Willow and the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack. They arrived at the same time as Severus, using his entrance to mask any noises they made as the trio hid behind some crates, using the cloak as further protection.

They listened as Voldemort welcomed Severus and when he explained his grievances with the Elder Wand to him. When he explained his reasoning of why it didn't work for him and what he planned to do to rectify that, Harry tensed, itching to run forward and throttle the monster with his bare hands. _No!_ He thought fiercely in his head. No one would hurt his father again, let alone this vile, disgusting, worm with an overdeveloped ego.

Hearing what was about to happen to his father, Harry reached forward, but felt a firm hand on each of his shoulders, holding him back. Turning to Hermione, the closer of the two, he glared at her. With sadness in her eyes, she shook her head at him. "No," she mouthed. Looking back at his father, Harry wished to see his eyes, not knowing where else to find strength. _As much as you want to, this won't help him,_ presumably his voice of reason said, sounding suspiciously like his father. He forced himself to sit back and watch as Voldemort ordered Nagini to attack the Headmaster of Hogwarts, then again once he'd fallen to the floor. The tears ran down his face silently as the arrogant wizard left the dilapidated house, sure of his victory.

For a moment, the sight of his fallen father immobilized Harry. The man had always been the pillar in his life, the strong point, unmoveable and ever-present. Seeing his body broken on the floor tore apart his whole world. His father coughing forced him out of his shock and he rushed forward, throwing off the cloak and running across the room, his tears blinding his vision, as he collapsed on the floor in front of his father.

"Dad! Dad!" he cried. "Please don't die, oh please don't die! I still need you."

With great effort, Severus raised his head to look his son in the eye. It pained him to have him here at this time, yet at the same time felt comforted that the last thing he would see would be his son. His wits returning, Harry performed one of the many healing spells his dad had shown him, closing the gashes on his neck, allowing him to speak.

"Son," Severus got out, trying not to cough.

"Dad!" Harry continued to cry, his hands shaking in fear. He couldn't lose his father, he just couldn't.

Severus grabbed hold of his son's robes. There were still things needed to be said, goodbyes would be for later.

"Son, there is something you must be made aware of." When Harry still didn't look at him, Severus fixed him with a glare and barked, "Potter! Listen to your father!" Chastised, Harry looked up. "There is work left to be done. Save your grieving for later."

Though it pained him, Harry understood. "Yes, Father," he said softly.

"I will say this quick. Albus told me of the horcruxes, but he also told me of one you do not know about. The night the Dark Lord attacked your family, the rebounding Killing Curse split his soul one more time, which then latched on to the only living thing in the room. You."

Harry's eyes widened. "But that means…"

"Yes. The last piece of Voldemort lives in you."

"How do we get rid of it?"

"You must give the Dark Lord what he wants. When he calls for you, you are to face him as he asks."

"And how do I fight him?"

"You do not. This is imperative, Harry. Your thoughts must not be to fight him, but to protect. You hear me? You will understand when the time comes."

Harry sniffled and wiped his nose. "So, this is it, then. All we've fought for; it ends like this."

Severus reached out to touch his son's cheek. "No, this is not the end. Though, it may be goodbye for some time."

Harry chocked back a sob. "I don't want you to go!"

"Harry, it is over for me, whether I survive my injuries or not. I joined this war for your mother, fully expecting to die, then, I was lucky enough to get care of you, and I decided surviving might not be so bad after all. Yet now, with what must be done…" Severus couldn't go on. He could hardly bear to think it. _Damn, you Albus. The boy is just_ seventeen _,_ Severus thought. It pained him greatly to see his son like this, and was calmed only by the thought that it would all be over soon. For the both of them.

Harry still tried to fight it. "I can save you. You'll be ok."

Severus shook his head. "No, Harry. I will not be saved. I will not live without you. Now, enough arguing. Listen to your father, go and do your duty."

While the words were spoken softly, with sympathy and care, Harry knew better than to disobey.

"Yes, Father." Harry's voice could reach no louder than a whisper. With one final look at his father, he said, "I love you, Dad."

"Go be the hero I always knew you were. Let everyone be as proud of you as I am."

Harry sniffled once more and stood up. He moved to where Ron and Hermione were standing, clutching each other, obviously not wanting to intrude in the scene.

"I know you don't particularly care for him, but he's my father. So, take care of him. Make sure he doesn't…" he was unable to finish the sentence.

Surprisingly, it was Ron who put a hand on his shoulder and stated,

"Don't worry, mate. We'll keep him alive till you get back."

Harry simply nodded, unable to speak. It was good his friends hadn't heard the conversation he'd had with his dad; they shouldn't have to worry about him now.

As he left the Shrieking Shack, heading to the castle, one thought plagued him. Never before had he disobeyed his father like this. He pushed it away as he raced back towards the fray. _I'm sorry, Father._ It was just too much. He couldn't just leave him there, dying. He had to do _something_. So he would try first to save him, whether he wished it or not. He knew it would be futile if he didn't survive, but when there was still hope, his father would _not_ draw his last breath.

* * *

Left in the Shack, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"What do we do?" Ron asked with a shrug, glancing sidelong at the motionless form of their former professor. "I don't necessarily like the man," he continued in a low voice, "but we owe to Harry to help him. If it's even possible at this point," he finished with a frown.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know that much about how to save him, we need to find someone who does."

"That and someone who doesn't think he's a traitor," Ron pointed out.

Hermione snapped her head up. "Madame Pomfrey."

"What?"

"Think about it, how often has Harry gotten hurt in school? There's no way Snape wouldn't have been involved, which means she knew."

Ron nodded. "Send for her."

Hermione took a deep breath and summoned a Patronus to send off to Madame Pomfrey, telling her Harry's _father_ was injured in the Shrieking Shack.

Grabbing Ron's hand, she said, "Come on, there's still a war going on. Let's go find Harry."

* * *

Poppy burst into the old house and with a spell identified Severus's position. Gasping at the sight of him, bloody and broken on the floor, she rushed to him, summoning potions and casting a diagnostic spell. Thankfully, there were still some potions left here from when Remus had to spend time in this house, meaning not all the potions had to fly all the way from the school. Poppy winced once she understood the full extent of the damage done to Severus.

His fall, combined with the weight of Nagini had lacerated two of his ribs, and broken three others. The wounds on his neck had been more or less closed, yet blood still trickled from them, not to mention the poison most likely coursing through his body. Poppy had been quick enough to summon a bezoar, just in case, which she shoved down his throat. Hopefully that would deal with the poison, but, if not, she had a few vials of anti-venom as well. While she could heal the ribs, they would still be tender and Severus would need lots of rest until becoming fully functional again. The wounds on his neck as well had to be properly tended to ensure they stayed closed. Being bites from a magical snake, they could not be healed with magic alone. Severus had quite a few weeks of healing ahead of him. And knowing the man, he was sure to most infuriating as a patient. She sat back to watch for any changes in his state, make sure the treatment was working, yet after a few moments, she checked his vitals again. No! This couldn't be happening. His vitals were still dropping. This was impossible! He should've been getting better, but his breathing simply worsened and the wounds on his neck began opening again. There was only one possible reason for this to be happening and Poppy couldn't bear to think it.

"Oh no, you don't!" she cried, casting more healing spells. "Don't you dare do this, Severus Snape!" What was he thinking; they were so close to reaching an end to this war; how could he give up now? Wanting him to hear her berate him, she casted the strongest Ennervate she could manage. Poppy thanked Merlin when his eyes began to crack open.

"You listen here, young man!" she bellowed. "You are not going to give up! Think about Harry now. Are you going to leave him parentless _again_? Listen to me!"

Severus's thoughts were fuzzy and he could barely understand what was going on. It sounded like a woman was shouting at him. Not actually that strange an occurrence. One word in particular called out at him. Harry. Yes. Of course, Harry. He was the reason for all of this, wasn't he? And now he was gone, or would be soon. The angry voice no longer meant anything, nothing did. Severus had played his part; he had done his share, now he would sleep. Yes, rest sounded so good, and this world held nothing for him anymore. He felt so heavy; he could just let that weight fall away and descend into emptiness. Yes, falling farther and farther, away from hurt and pain, to a place only of peace. The voice faded away and all was black.

* * *

Severus's senses slowly returned to him. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was white. This confused him; was he dead? If so, he didn't remember dying. Blinking in the brightness of the white around him, he made out the outline of what looked like the living room at Spinner's End. Spinner's End; where he was forced to grow up with an abusive father and neglectful mother. A place he'd never really felt fit to call home.

Confused as to what this room meant to him, Severus studied his surroundings with care. He stopped when he got to the armchair sitting in front of the fire. In his short years in this house, he'd found his father, passed-out drunk in that chair. He'd learned early on never to wake his father from that chair, paying dearly any time he did, and had made sure to never stray too close to it, just in case. He approached fearfully, unsure of what exactly drew him forward. Perhaps it was to fulfill a desire to stand up to his father, or finally get back at him, if he found him there. However, Severus knew the real reason. Deep down inside, he was still afraid of his father, and more than anything, he had to check if he was really there, sitting in that chair, so he could prepare himself.

He was almost there, when a figure peeked out at him. Severus gaped and took a small step backwards. It wasn't his father in the chair, not at all. Instead, it was a man he'd looked up to, hated, and loved all at once. Albus beckoned him forward with a gentle smile.

"Severus, my dear boy, come sit with me by the fire, warm yourself."

So relieved it wasn't his father, Severus obeyed without much thought. Somehow, without his noticing, he'd appeared in this place in the form of himself as a young boy, and behaved as such. Slowly, he crept forward onto Albus's lap, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Above his head, Albus smiled and snaked his arms around the form, holding gently in place.

How did this feel so normal when it was so utterly strange? Severus wondered. He knew this was not how it always went. His father had never hugged him, never touched him in anything other than violence. Yet, this man holding him… he felt safe for the first time in his life. And cared for. And it seemed like something a father would do. Somehow, subconsciously, he knew this man was someone he trusted, and he snuggled closer against his chest.

After a few minutes of peace, Albus turned Severus sideways on his lap to look at him properly.

"Severus, I'm so proud of you." As he spoke, as Severus got more used to his face, his memories slowly came back, like remembering a dream after waking. Severus's face grew sad, as well as older and he reverted back to his older form, suddenly sitting next to Albus on the couch currently placed in Spinner's End living room hearth.

"I've failed, Albus." Severus looked down at his hands.

The elder wizard touched his arm. "No, Severus, you did as much as you could. You are a hero."

"Harry..." Severus found it hard to speak the name, his throat tightening in pain.

"Harry will play his part, and you will see him again soon."

Severus turned on his mentor with a glare. The nerve of the man! To speak so cavalierly about Harry's death. Did he not care at about him at all? About either of them? It certainly hadn't seemed so the night Severus had killed him.

"That's all you have to say? That's all my son means to you?"

Albus sighed. "I'm so terribly sorry, my boy. I've been too hard on you. You and Harry both. You deserved better than what a foolish old man could give you."

Severus shook his head, somehow unable to stay angry at the man, the peace of this place drawing away all of his resentment. "You did your best to lead in a time of war."

"Nevertheless, I should have done more for you." He paused. "This fight is not over yet, though, Severus. Least not for you."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You will see soon enough. You must go, Severus."

"Go? Go where?"

But the room was fading quickly, along with the voice of his mentor. "Be strong, Severus, my son," were the last words he heard before he was lost in the white again.

Was this the place he was supposed to go? Would this lead him to the afterlife, to the place where he would pass on? Severus figured if he stayed there in the nothingness any longer, with nothing but his last memories of Harry and what he'd told him for company, he'd go insane.

Fortunately, before he had long to wonder, he heard a trilling. A soft crooning that spoke to him of home and hope. It was the most wondrous sound he'd heard in his life. He could not help but follow it, seek out its source. Surely, there he would find peace. He was hearing the sound of redemption, something he'd sought for most of his life. Without thinking much, he followed the singing until it led him to a place where he could sleep.

* * *

Poppy was thinking of giving up. His wounds were too severe, his despair too strong. She had no way to save him, and he had no will to live. Tears streamed down her face. After all of this, he, most of all, deserved to live, to find happiness.

The sudden sound of a bird's cry took her out of her melancholy. She looked up just in time to see a flash of red as a large, magnificent bird, with fire-colored plumage and bright amber eyes swooped into the room. Tears sprung back to Poppy's eyes in relief.

"Fawkes," she breathed. The phoenix gave a loud cry, before settling on Severus's slumped shoulder eyes boring into Poppy's. _Of course,_ she thought. Severus had saved his master, giving him a quick and painless end, now Fawkes would save the current Headmaster, giving him the _beginning_ he'd more than earned. The phoenix began to sing and Poppy was calmed. The song continued for long minutes, until finally, Severus's chest began to rise and fall with relative normalcy. Sighing in relief, Poppy resumed her care of the man lying on the floor in front of her.

Pain. Severus's first thoughts when he awoke were of the immeasurable agony he felt throughout his body. Used to waking up in pain, he mentally checked his facilities before attempting to move. After a quick assessment, he deemed that a good thing. His body ached all over, like he'd fallen from a height onto stone, only to be run over by an automobile. His ribs, especially, were tender and sore, no doubt healing from a break. His neck stung terribly – that blasted snake. Other than that, he seemed fine. Scratch that, he was _not_ fine. Though he'd not yet opened his eyes, Severus knew he was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. The familiar smells alone would have been enough, were it not for the occasional moan of a patient and soft voice of Madame Pomfrey, assuring him of his location. All of which meant one thing. He was alive.

If he had the strength, he would have screamed. After everything, he still wasn't allowed his peace. Some fool had saved him and now he was destined to continue suffering in a world that hated him. Unless he really had died and this would be his hell; spending eternity in the Hospital Wing, in pain, under the care of Madame Pomfrey, surrounded only by the sick.

But no, this was real; he could feel it. And that's what hurt the most. He heard more sounds the longer he was awake, yet though he still had not opened his eyes, he had no desire to do so. Nothing there would hold any interest to him. This world held nothing for him now. He was devoid of purpose, of love; even his son…his son was gone.

All of sudden, it was too much and a sob raced up his throat, escaping through his lips. That broke the dam inside him; the one that had held him together until now, and he cried his heart out, shaking in the bed supporting his listless body. Harry, his son, his only reason for survival post-Lily, the warmth in his heart, was gone. Just a boy. He'd been just a boy and he'd died too soon.

Severus had hoped to die; he'd asked for it. Finding out he was still alive was more than a disappointment; it was torture, a punishment he thought he'd done enough to avoid. Though his remaining injuries were superficial at most, he might as well have been an invalid. With no purpose, no drive, what good would getting up do? He was alone in a world where everyone either hated or feared him. If only he'd have the courage to end this hell on his own… perhaps he could provoke someone enough… Merlin knew the list of people with something against him was long enough.

Severus thought he'd felt hopeless almost 20 years ago, when Lily died; he'd thought he'd known pain then – that was nothing, nothing compared to the agony coursing through his veins now. His sobs worsened and though he strove to avoid it, a tear slid from the corner of his eye down his cheek.

He still had not opened his eyes. This was why, when he heard a soft voice speak to him, he was certain he was dreaming or hallucinating, because there was no way _that_ voice had just uttered _that_ word.

"Dad?" Severus stiffened. No. This wasn't real, he was imagining it; there was no way this could be real. Now, more than ever, he did not want to open his eyes, did not want to see the empty chair next to him. Yet, at the same time, even knowing it was false, he longed to hear that sweet voice again, could not breathe without it. What happened next proved it was simply a dream.

"Dad? Can you hear me? Wake up." Right after he'd wished to hear his son again, his request was granted. This could be no more than a hallucination. His son was gone. He'd sent him to his death. In that moment, Severus hated himself more than ever. If only he'd taken the boy and run, if only he'd tried harder to save him…he was a horrible father.

"Dad, are you in pain? Tell me you can hear me, please." Severus wanted to laugh. Was he in pain? What kind of question was that? _My mind is seriously disturbed,_ he thought. Though the pleading in the voice hurt him, he could not risk the pain of losing it by opening his eyes and grasping the truth.

Suddenly, Severus felt a hand clasp his. He breathed in sharply.

"Dad. It's me; I'm not a dream. I'm real, you can open your eyes." Severus shook his head quickly, once. The voice continued. "Dad, it's ok. I survived. We won; you don't have to be afraid of losing me anymore." This was accompanied by a squeeze of Severus's hand. Without thinking, he squeezed back. Drawing strength from the grip, hoping beyond hope it was real, that he was right, Severus slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was his bedsheet spread across his legs on the cot he lay on. Next was the privacy curtain cutting the bed off from the rest of the Infirmary, and finally, on a chair to the left of the bed, a brave, solemn-faced boy staring down at him. Unruly black hair, brilliant green eyes behind wire-framed glasses, Severus's breath caught in his throat, though his heart began beating at double rate.

"Harry," he whispered, unable to say anything else. His boy had been crying for who knows how long. He was also obviously suffering from a lack of sleep, which Severus could not blame him for. Never in his life had he been so happy to see his bloody irritating, moody, trouble-making, skinny, infuriatingly brave Gryffindor of a son. The boy's tears started again in earnest, and at hearing his name exit his father's lips, promptly threw himself against the man's chest. It hurt Severus's newly healed ribs, yet he could not care less. He held his son, safe in his arms, and nothing could take away from this perfect moment. He wrapped his arms around Harry as well, perfectly content to remain that way forever. He pressed a kiss to the top of the sweet boy's head, blaming his overwrought emotions for the gesture.

He had just lost his son. Now, he had him back and Harry would never doubt again how much his father loved him.

"I love you, Son," he whispered in the boy's ear.

"I love you, Dad," Harry replied, speaking into his shirt.

Severus sighed and tightened his hold on his son. The war was over; they were safe.

All was well.


	8. Eight Years Later

**A/N: Only one more chapter after this; hope you've enjoyed the journey so far. It will be pretty obvious what this one-shot portrays, but I thought it prudent to state that this occurs eight years after the Final Battle. I have followed canon, mostly, for post-Hogwarts years, most notably the Ginny/Harry pairing. I've always liked it and have therefore kept it for this fic. Enjoy this next scene.**

* * *

Eight Years Later...

Severus sat in the waiting room in St. Mungo's, nerves highly agitated. It had been quite a while since anyone had come to inform him of any outcome, and he abhorred being in the dark. He forced himself to sit still in place of fidgeting or pacing. _Everything will be fine,_ he tried to convince himself. He just hated waiting.

Finally, a healer exited the room in front of him, wiping his brow, and Severus stood up.

"Well?" he barked out, patience thinner than usual.

The healer looked up and nodded. "You can go in now."

Snarling at the lack of information he was given, Severus pushed past him and entered the room. First, he noticed the healers in the room who'd been assisting, now either standing around or clearing the surrounding equipment away. Next, he saw Harry, standing on one side of the bed, an arm around his wife's shoulders. And nestled there, in her arms, so tiny and beautiful and _perfect_ lay the sleeping form of their second child. He was no longer crying, as he would have been upon exiting his mother's womb, and now rested silently. Noting his entrance, Harry smiled up at his father as he came to stand opposite him, eyes on the newborn child.

"Dad," Harry welcomed him, and Severus's heart danced at the joy in his voice. He nodded at his son, before returning his attention to his new grandchild. He was simply drawn to the boy, just like he'd been with James Sirius, the purity of their innocence entrancing him. It was something he had not been exposed to in his lifetime and he felt simply being near them gave him relief, like a prisoner of the dark finding the sun.

The healers had cleaned him up before he entered and Severus leaned closer to fully examine the child. His miniscule hands were curled into fists, and soft, jet-black hair covered his head, he shared his mother's nose and cheekbones, but had his father's chin. Severus was just wondering about the color of his eyes, when the child yawned and his eyelids fluttered open. Once more, Severus found himself in full view of eyes he'd seen before. Someone else had those eyes. Two people, in fact. Harry and Ginny's second son possessed Lily's green eyes, just as his father did. Giving another great yawn, the baby turned his head to press it against his mother's chest, and only then, did Severus break his gaze and lift his watery eyes to those of his son. Surprisingly, he found traces of moisture there as well.

"He's beautiful, Harry."

Harry's smile widened and after a brief, silent conference with his wife, he replied,

"Would you like to know his name?" Severus nodded, unable to speak. Following a dramatic pause, Harry announced, "His name is Severus Albus Potter."

Severus froze. Many objections formed in his head, though none reached his lips; he was so stunned by this pronouncement, he could think of nothing to say. Summoning a chair wandlessly, he collapsed onto it with a sigh. It had to be a joke, it had to be. But it wasn't. Harry wouldn't do that, and there'd been no mirth in his voice.

"Dad?" Harry came around the bed to put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had been expecting, but it certainly seemed to have affected his father deeply. When James Sirius had been born, Severus had simply nodded in acceptance to the name. Over the years, though he hadn't spoken much of the two men, he _had_ grown to appreciate what they'd been for Harry and was glad they would be remembered in a child who, hopefully, would get only the best of them, without the traits that had caused him so much pain. This, however, was vastly different.

Shaking his head in answer to the question, Harry's father looked up at him with a familiar pain in his eyes; the pain of guilt and remorse, of burdens carried too long and disgust in himself for sins long since forgiven. It hurt Harry to see it again after so many years of living in peace.

"I don't deserve this." The words were clearly mouthed, yet less than an actual breath exited Severus's lips; Harry understood it all the same. He remembered the time he'd uttered those words to his father and the conversation that'd followed. Oh, how the man had helped him over the years; saved him from his own demons, protecting him against all those who would hurt him, fought for him, almost died for him, and here he thought himself unworthy of the simplest show of gratitude. This man had made him who he was today. _Well, Dad,_ he thought, _just like you helped me all those times, now I'm going to help you._

"You're being ridiculous, Dad," he said aloud. "Of course you deserve it."

The scarred, no-longer-broken man shook his head bitterly. "I can't. This boy," he gestured at the child in Ginny's arms, "is so good and pure and I will not taint that with my name and all it carries. He deserves more than the name of a Death Eater, a traitor, a coward, a—"

"A man who risked everything to save the life of his son. A man who never gave up, no matter how hard it got, no matter what he lost. One who put his life on the line _every day_ for the sake of those who only knew enough to hate him. One who endured all that, just for his son. A man who has loved and cared and looked after me for most of my life, who is loyal, and brave and kind and _good_. Someone I am proud to call my father, my hero; a man I love and admire and aspire to be."

Severus stared at his son in shock. No one, not even Harry, had ever said anything like that to him before. Yes, the boy did love him ( _silly child_ ) and Severus knew Harry sought his approval, but he'd never imagined _this_ was how his son saw him. Most astounding, was that for the second time in the span of five minutes, Severus had been rendered speechless.

Ginny looked fondly up at her husband. "I think you've broken him." A smirk crossing her face as she said this.

Her voice shaking him out of his stupor, he addressed her, "You agree with this foolishness?"

She shrugged at him. "It's a suitable name. One, surprisingly, we agreed on. So no, I don't think we'll be changing it." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you're to going to forbid us to name our son for you or something ridiculous like that. It'd be extremely rude; I'd be terribly insulted, and you know what happens when I get mad."

Severus fixed her with one of his best Ginny-glares (ones designed specifically for her) and tried not to let his nervousness show. While, of course, he must appear resolute and menacing, she truly did have quite a temper. Focusing on his indignation, he frowned. He was very aware of this tactic of Ginny's and did not appreciate it one bit.

"Don't try guilting me into accepting this, Mrs. Potter, it won't work. I won't have my grandson wearing this outlandish name, nor the weight it bears."

Ginny stared back with a glare of her own. "Well, lucky for us, you are not on the "what to name _my_ child" committee. What I say: goes; your opinion barely matters." All in the room recognized that as hogwash, though no one voiced their objections. Ginny was only trying to get him to agree to her name of choice and Severus knew that. _That doesn't stop her sharp tongue, though,_ he thought wryly.

Throughout the exchange, Harry glanced between the two of them, a small, fond smile on his face. When the mock argument was over, Harry said more seriously,

"I meant it, Dad. That's what we're naming our son. You truly deserve it."

Severus sighed. "It's not only my personal feelings I worry about. The public's feelings towards me are ambivalent at best, and downright hostile and nasty at worst. I would not want to set this burden on your child. Surely _he_ deserves better than that?"

Ginny's face reddened and Severus thought, _oops,_ preparing himself for another bout of her temper.

"So? Who cares what the fools out there think? You know the lot of them, you taught most of them. Now when was the last time you based your actions on what a dunderhead would think?"

"While I appreciate your outlook, Mrs. Potter, this is different. This is not just my reputation, it will affect your child's life, and I will not harm in that way."

"Damn straight it'll affect his life. He'll see he has a grandfather he can respect and be proud to have. He will grow up knowing how much his name says about you and it will only bring you closer."

Severus struggled to develop another argument, to convince them to change their minds, but all his mind could conjure was the sight of those green eyes on a small child, regarding him with love and gratitude and a little reverence. He could see it now: little Severus Albus Potter, brewing potions with his grandfather, listening raptly as Severus explained each and every step; telling him stories about Grandma Lily and Harry as a child. All other objections flew out the window. It was too much. All the love, the acceptance, the admiration he'd craved since in his teens was now right in front of him and he'd be a fool not to take it. With the happiness gained through Harry, and the family through Ginny and (regrettably) the rest of the clan, he felt partially sated, but this was different, more. For once, Severus was willing to be selfish and let himself be granted this one desire.

His expression visibly softening, he looked to Harry. "I would be honored if you would name your son for me." Harry responded with a watery smile and an embrace to break his ribs. Lifting his eyes to Ginny, he found a smile on her face as well. Severus reached out to squeeze her hand fondly; he'd always had a soft spot for her anyway.

"Would you like to hold him?"

Severus raised his eyebrows, but took the baby from the proffered arms, mentally preparing himself for meeting his second grandson. Taking the infant carefully from his mother's grasp, he cradled the baby close to his chest, studying his tranquil features.

"Hello, Little Severus," he whispered. The tears springing suddenly to his eyes surprised him. In his mind's eye, he saw this little boy growing up, in a household filled with warmth, love, and happiness, things his childhood had sorely lacked. That this pure child would receive everything he'd ever dreamed of, while carrying his name, it seemed almost as if he was getting a chance to start over, make everything better this time.

Severus didn't even bother wiping the tears away as they rolled down his face. He'd learned with James, his first grandchild, that it did no good to supress his feelings when it came to his grandchildren. While his reputation was in shambles, barely able to support itself, he found it mattered much less when James fixed him with a wide smile, or carefree laugh. At the moment, the child in Severus's arms stretched and gave a big yawn, waving his little fists about and Severus could just about feel his heart melt.

"You are going to be so loved," he murmured to the sleeping child. "You will be everything I wasn't, my little Severus."

Holding his wife's hand, Harry observed the touching scene between the two, occasionally sharing a fond glance with Ginny, who watched as well. Harry marveled at the peace on his father's face as he looked down at Harry's son. Even though the war had long since ended and Severus lived contentedly, he still carried the hurt and regrets he'd suffered during those many years of pain. However, in this moment, all that seemed to fade away as he held his grandson, in its place serenity reined his features. Harry couldn't have been happier.


	9. Nineteen Years Later

**A/N: Sorry again for the delay. So we have finally reached the end. I have had great pleasure writing this and hope you have enjoyed the reading. Again, all those who wish me to write an epilogue, just mention it in the comments; enough comments and I'll write one. Thanks to all my readers/followers and favoriters, you all mean a lot to me. Till next time, Sharklist.**

Nineteen Years Later...

Severus entered King's Cross Station for the second time in three years. Crossing the barrier onto Platform Three and Three-Quarters, he did a quick head count to make sure all in their party had come through safely. There was James Sirius first – no surprise there – closely followed by Ginny, Harry a foot behind her. Severus Albus stood nervously behind and to the left of his father, subconsciously reaching out to hold Harry's hand before snatching it back again, repeatedly. Severus himself stood at the back, holding onto little Lily Luna's hand. Harry, glancing back as they walked, recognized the look in his father's eye and inwardly smirked. _Vigilant as ever, Dad,_ he thought.

From the back of the column, Severus had no time to stop James racing off, presumably to go find his friends. _Foolish Gryffindor,_ he couldn't help but think. Suppressing the desire to cry out to the child and call him back, he reasoned with himself, _he's thirteen;_ _you don't need to coddle him._ Nonetheless, Severus had a hard time believing those under his care weren't in constant danger. Noting his father's frown, Harry hung back until the man caught up and he smiled at him, saying,

"Cheer up, Dad. I think I see the others ahead." The older wizard's answering glare elicited a chuckle from the younger. "I know you don't really think they're so bad. Your reputation's certainly taken some blows over the years."

"I thought you came to make me feel _better_ , Son, not worse."

Harry laughed out loud. "Be nice, Dad." With that, he hurried up to meet the rest of the family.

Turning to the little girl at his side, Severus mused, _at least I only have to do this one more time._ Lily, feeling his gaze, smiled back up at him. The corners of his mouth lifted up slightly, no matter how much he told them to stay still. Ever since his youngest grandchild had been born, she'd only ever smiled at him. No manner of glares or sneers was enough to drive the delight off her face. And no manner of internal argument was enough for Severus to reply with anything else than a smile of his own. At least she was the polar opposite of her brothers in temperament. Unlike James with his rambunctious attitude, or Little Sev with his cool-headed mischief, Lily was extremely mature for her age and very logical to boot. She'd roll her eyes whenever her brother's antics got them in trouble, and continue reading whichever thousand page book she was on this week. Severus was certain she'd be in Ravenclaw when the time came. Focusing forward again, he noted that the dreaded relatives had, indeed, arrived. He let Lily run ahead to her Aunt, uncle and cousins, following at a slower pace.

"All set?" he heard Ron ask Harry. Harry nodded in response. The group separated into adults and kids, each involved in their own conversations. "Don't know how you managed this with James, Harry, let alone Al as well. Just sending off your kid like that – I've been feeling nervous all day."

Harry smirked. "It doesn't get easier."

His friend groaned. "Thanks, mate. You know I've got another one to send off after Rose?"

Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine, mate."

Hermione approached Severus. "How've you been, Severus? Not too worn out from the kids, I hope."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I have much experience with children from my many years as a schoolteacher, as you should know, Mrs. Weasley. Or were my classes so horrible they had to be erased from your mind?"

The still-brilliant witch grinned. "It's Hermione, Severus. You know that. And no, I remember every single one of those horrid – sorry, informative classes."

Severus gave no answering comment, however Hermine caught the amused glint in his eye. The girl – now, young woman – had certainly matured over the years and mellowed out quite a bit.

The conversations taking place were suddenly interrupted by a breathless James running up and loudly exclaiming some gossip about one Teddy Lupin. His parents were able to quiet him down, though his energetic attitude didn't abate one bit. Calling him over, Severus focused an eye on his grandson and stated,

"I hope to see you behaving with more decorum at school, young man. I expect the best from you."

A little sheepishly, the boy replied, "Yes, Grandpa Severus."

While Severus had taken off working the years following the war, recently, he'd taken up his old post as Potions Master again, seeing as how Slughorn had finally decided to retire – for real this time –, as well as use it as an excuse to aid the aging Headmistress McGonagall with her duties, as Deputy Headmaster. Most knew, however, his real reason for returning was to keep an eye on his grandkids who would be attending the school over the next decade.

Nodding to James, Severus excused the child to go run off again. As he passed the gaggle of younger siblings/cousins, he teased,

"Almost off to Hogwarts, Little snake."

"Stop it, James!" Al shouted in response.

"James!" his mother scolded, "What have I told you about teasing your brother?"

"Sorry, Mum," he mumbled. With that, he was off again.

Ginny turned back to her conversation with Hermione, but Severus's eye was fixed on his namesake, who, instead of chatting with his relatives, was now looking at his feet, dejectedly.

Catching the boy's eye, Severus pulled him over to the side for a private chat. Looking him deep in his familiar green eyes, Severus saw a look that he hadn't witnessed in Al in a long time.

Casting his memory back, Severus was reminded of the day his grandson had decided he wanted to be called Al. It was a Saturday afternoon and Severus was reading a book in the sitting room, when he'd come running into the house, tears in his eyes, as he jumped onto his grandfather's lap, arms flung around his neck. When Severus was finally able to extricate the boy, he was surprised at the emotion in those wet eyes. Little Sev was scared and embarrassed, as if he would soon disappoint his grandfather and wanted to avoid it. Wiping the wetness from his cheeks, Severus asked his grandson what the matter was.

"I want to be called Al," the boy practically chocked out.

"That's alright," Severus replied, "you don't need to feel pressured into accepting my name."

The child on his lap shook his head vehemently, rubbing the mess from under his nose with his sleeve. "It's not that. I love my name. It's… it's _them_ ," he gestured to the outdoors, presumably gesturing towards where the children he'd been amusing himself with were.

Immediately, Severus's protective side reared its head and his eyes hardened. If anyone had hurt his grandson…"What did they do to you, Little Sev?"

"They…they keep making fun of me!"

Severus raised his eyebrows. This was unlike his cool-headed, confident grandson; he knew not to pay mind to taunts. "What did they say?"

Little Sev's eyes darkened. "Mean stuff about you! They say you're…you're e-evil and dangerous, and I _hate_ them!"

Severus was surprised. All this, for _him_? The town they lived in was half-wizard, half-muggle, which meant there were plenty of wizarding children who would've heard of Severus from their parents, through stories of the war. While Severus had been publicly exonerated, by Harry Potter no less, there were still many who distrusted him, and would no doubt impart that to their children. Severus couldn't blame them, he had been forced to commit atrocities during the War, yet it surprised him his grandson would be so affected by this.

"You don't have to listen to them, Sev."

"But it's my _name_ , Grampa! I don't want to hear them say bad things about you every time someone mentions my name. It'll stay with me wherever I go, unless…unless I change my name." Sev said the last line with his forehead pressed against his grandfather's shirt, unwilling to look him in the eye.

Severus lifted the boy's chin with a finger. "Listen to me, Sev. Your name is your own; you can choose to do with it what you will. I'm flattered you wish to protect me this way; if you want to be called Al, I would not be offended, as long as I can still call you my Little Sev."

Those big, green eyes brightened and Severus was presented with a huge smile from the boy on his lap. "Of course, Grampa!" Then, Severus was accosted by another giant hug, which he eagerly accepted, before sending the child out to play again.

Watching him ran out, Severus contemplated "Al's" decision. For years he'd suffered the vile comments of others, and it'd never bothered him before, his namesake's reaction seemed a little excessive to him. Until he looked at it from the boy's perspective. To him, people were insulting his beloved grandfather. Of course he wanted to change what he was called. Inwardly, Severus had been slightly disappointed, thinking his grandson didn't want to share his name. However, the truth was much better. The boy was trying to protect him. And the child would still be his Little Sev, which was what really mattered.

Now, Severus Albus was preparing for his first year at Hogwarts and Severus once again found himself before that same uncertain boy.

"Don't listen to your brother, Little Sev. You can go to whichever House you choose. Besides, you know there's nothing wrong with Slytherin, right?"

Sev nodded begrudgingly. "But you know how James is. He's always making jokes and stuff, even the other boys treat me different cuz of what James says, cuz I'm small, and James is more heroic and stuff. If I go into Slytherin, it'll only make it worse. Then, everyone will think I'm… well, I don't know, but it won't be good."

Severus sighed. "Severus Albus Potter, what have I always told you to use against hurtful comments?"

The child blushed. Severus simply waited until a small voice said, "You can't hurt me with what you said, you're just a little dunderhead." When he'd been younger, Sev had delighted in saying it quite often, frequently loud enough for the intended recipients to hear. In the past years, he'd had to use it less, and only muttered it to himself when necessary. It was a little embarrassing after all.

Severus, on his part, fought a smirk. He was certainly proud of that one. He'd taught it to Sev long ago, to teach him to be strong, and for the most part it seemed to have worked. "Very good. That's all you need to be able to handle bullies. As for being a Slytherin, I'm sure you're aware that the character traits associated with each House are not limited to those dwelling within them. I have met quite a few intelligent Gryffindors, and loyal Ravenclaws. There are even some cunning Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins can be brave as well."

"Dad always says you're the bravest man he's ever known," Sev provided proudly.

Severus fought the color rising to his cheeks. Harry _did_ say the most outlandish things. "Yes, well your father tends to be _quite_ melodramatic at times." Sev giggled. "I want you to know, my Sev, that no matter what House you enter, I will always be proud of you." Sev smiled again and hugged the older wizard.

"Thanks, Grampa."

Not long after, it was time to say goodbye. Al boarded the train with his cousin and the parents waved goodbye from the Platform as the train left the station. On the way back to the car, Harry hung back with his father.

"He'll be fine, Harry," Severus reassured his son, noting the familiar look on his face.

Harry smiled at his father. "I know, you'll look after him."

Severus nodded sagely. After a brief pause, "Al had some reservations…" he trailed off.

"I know about Sev's worries, Dad. You put them to rest, I hope." The man nodded again. "I certainly share your sentiments. I worry sometimes about James, though. He reminds me of another rambunctious child, one who managed to deal quite a lot of harm. I wonder if I get through to him enough." Harry stared off with a faraway look in his eye.

Severus put an arm over his shoulder to steer him back to the present. "I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong."

"What?"

"You assume James's attitude is all from you, through _your_ father, but there's too much Lily in you, and not enough James in him. I think you'll find his personality quite similar to that of his mother's as a young child, not to mention a certain uncle of his, or should I say, uncles?"

Harry looked at his father. "You mean George? Fred and George?"

"The very same. I assure you, James will grow out of this phase, especially considering the many role models he has to temper him, much more than his namesake was able to benefit from. This is not on you, Harry."

A silence ensued during which Harry mulled over his father's words. He didn't speak again until they had reached the car, and Harry held Severus's arm before he went inside.

"Did I do well, then, Dad? Was I enough?"

Severus thought long and hard about how to respond in the best way. Finally, he spoke up,

"If I asked you the same, my answer would be identical to yours." Harry smiled the whole way home.


End file.
